Ned and Veronica's Excellent Adventure
by Gemini Explorer
Summary: Especially for N&V fans, by request. Ned and Veronica find romantic time alone as their friends are away. M&R risk attack by a man-eating jaguar as they hunt red brocket deer. G&F barter in the Zanga village, then must avoid raging theropod dinosaurs. Roxton and Finn want to hunt the man-eater, but will Challenger and Marguerite agree?


**Ned and Veronica's Excellent Adventure**

By

Gemini Explorer

Note: This fic is rated Mature for adult scenes involving nudity, sexual activity, and perhaps limited language inappropriate for very young readers. Be aware that in my fics, there are three couples in the Treehouse: John and Marguerite, Ned and Veronica, and George and Finn. G&amp;F were not romantically involved on the TV show, but I realized that if they were real and got to know one another better, Finn might have been attracted to George as more than a mentor. After all, she was penniless, uneducated, and lacked a birth certificate. See, _Challenger's Birthday_ for more details.

I was asked by several ladies to write a romantic little smut story for N&amp;V fans, like those I did for M&amp;R: _Sultry_ and, _A Tryst in the_ _Treehouse_. I hope I can avoid being too similar to those stories. But I like Ned and Veronica, and they deserve more coverage in fics. The TV show focused mainly on M&amp;R, and I want to develop the other characters better in their own right. There's considerable lovemaking here, but I hope I also wrote a tale that will otherwise interest readers, especially the men who've asked me for more jungle adventure. And now, our story… **This is edited internally into chapters, so that one can reach a stopping place to return to if you can't read it all at once.**

_This is for dolphinrain, who quite likes Ned Malone_

The Plateau, 1924

_The Treehouse, about 8:00AM_

The first inkling that Veronica had that this might be a special day was when she got downstairs to the dining area and saw the Challengers already eating. She smelled coffee as she descended the stairs, for the aroma was wonderful and her jungle-trained nose was keen. She paused and looked back at Ned Malone, trailing a few steps behind. "Hey, Studly: George and Finn are already down here. Was our clock set wrong?"

Not wearing a watch, she took Ned's left hand, looked at the gold Hamilton watch on its brown leather strap and saw that it was barely 8:00 AM. Odd… Usually, she and Ned rose first and woke the others, some effort often being required to rouse the Roxtons. Marguerite Krux, committed to someday becoming Marguerite Roxton, was known to be lazy and loved to lie abed. Sometimes, her mate came down without her, especially if she truly was still sleeping. Other times, he lay with her awhile until she grudgingly consented to rise and favor the company of explorers with her droll brunette presence.

Veronica, generally called Vee by her near-sister Finn, loved holding Ned's hand to check the time. She had two watches salvaged from female members of perished expeditions, but seldom wore them. She was used to estimating time by the sun and by instinct, and she was amazingly good at it. Besides, Ned was usually available if she really needed the exact time, or another member of her surrogate family would be near. Finn had a fine Patek-Phillipe in a leather pouch in her purse or a jacket, when she wore one, and all the men had watches. Marguerite also had an engraved Patek-Phillipe. She was just careful not to let having a watch at hand, indeed an alarm clock, cause her to rise before she willed it.

Ned and Veronica strolled over to the Challenger couple, and Finn stood and smacked palms with her hostess and near sibling. "Hi, Vee! We were hoping that you and Ned would get here soon. We just made coffee and biscuits. But I laid out the rest of the stuff to cook as soon as you're ready. Are Johnny and Marguerite up yet?"

"I'm darned if I know, Finn. I knocked on their door as we went by and told John to pull out and make Marguerite get up and put on some clothes and come down here before I cooked and threw their share to the dinosaurs, if any are down there outside the fence this morning."

Challenger looked up in mild alarm. "Lord, no, don't do that! If we feed them, they'll take to hanging out here and we shall be exposed to far too much danger that could have been avoided. Anyway, the Roxtons will be here shortly, I 'm sure."

"Lover, I think Vee was teasing. She'd never really throw out food. If nothing else, I'll scarf up their shares if they don't show. I'm still just rejoicing in having meals when I'm hungry and not worrying where the next bite can be found. New Amazonia still haunts me. Don't even joke about wasting food, Vee. It makes me shiver just to think of it."

Finn sat on Challenger's lap and ruffled his ginger hair. "Now that Ned and Vee are here, I guess I'd better go help her make breakfast. You and Ned can sit here and have coffee while we female worker bees cook." She leaned down and kissed the big scientist, who ran a hand down her arm and hugged her briefly as she stood.

When the women were safely in the kitchen, Ned muttered, "This is about the only time the 'female worker bees' let us relax. They'll find plenty enough for us to do later. It's been honey-do week around here lately."

"Eh?" asked Challenger, his mind already on an experiment in his lab. "Oh, yes: that pun again. Really, some of these terms that Finn brought back from the next century are amusing. But in a different sense, I am glad that we have honey of the other sort." And he helped himself to butter and honey and another freshly-baked biscuit. The explorers bought honey from specialized gatherers among the Zanga tribe. They wore protective clothing and knew how to smoke bees from the hives for a time, but some still succumbed to stings. He had diagnosed anaphylactic shock and had been working with the Paramount Shaman of All the Zanga, one Xma'Klee, to develop an antidote. He had been working with a plant that seemed to contain epinephrine or a similar drug, and had saved three lives that year among honey gatherers and two affected by asthma. His mind was much on refining this drug and making it practical to produce in civilization if they could leave the plateau.

Finn appeared with the coffeepot, filled George's cup, and looked at Ned, who nodded and extended his own cup. Challenger reached for cream.

Two pairs of boots sounded on the stairs as their missing companions arrived. "Ah, the aroma of coffee," exclaimed Marguerite. "I have a chance at life today, after all. If anything will revive me, it's blessed coffee. I trust that you made a fresh pot?"

"About to, Marguerite," replied Finn. "Come make it yourself while Vee and I cook. We're having eggs and venison with some fruit. By the way, Johnny, we need to hunt later today or tomorrow. The meat supply is getting thin again." She looked for Roxton's response.

"Agreed. Marguerite?" He looked at his mate. "Care to hunt?"

Marguerite vacillated a bit, and then agreed, provided that they didn't go too far from the Treehouse or shoot any small dinosaurs. "I want another deer or a small pig or a couple of agoutis or something more flavorful and not reptilian in origin. I hate the thought of those lizard- related things and how they still kick sometimes when you gralloch (clean) them. The way that frog legs jerk in the skillet if you don't cut the tendons... That's just unsightly.

"Yes, I know a cool glade where we can ambush something and enjoy the view while we wait. We'll pack a picnic lunch and pass the day in comfort." And it occurred to her that if she stayed home, Veronica would hand her a dust cloth and maybe want help in the garden.

So the Roxtons planned their day. The Challengers needed to take some herbs and medications that George had made to Xma'Klee in the main Zanga village so they also knew their plans. They would be back by dark, but probably not much sooner. They would take equipment and food in case they had to spend the night on the trail, but would strive to avoid that. The night here was too full of snakes, centipedes, hunting dinosaurs, and big cats for one to want to stay out at night unless necessary. In addition to their main goal, they would take trade items from Veronica and Marguerite to barter for cloth and native jewelry.

"Try to get some nice jewelry or small statuettes made of jade or turquoise," requested Marguerite. "And we need seeds to grow more watermelons and those squash that resemble Zucchini, and sweet potatoes. I really like those, and Veronica said that we're low on seeds. See, I do listen and heed the concerns of a blonde on occasion."

Veronica was at the table, offering more biscuits. She and Finn rolled their eyes and ignored Marguerite's blonde taunt. They had largely become inured to these provocations and only occasionally responded. The men were grateful for their relative temperance, if sometimes amused by the interactions of the ladies.

When all were seated and eating, Veronica announced that she and Ned should accompany the Challengers partway to the Zanga village. Then, she wanted to turn off to the NW and follow a small river to where she wanted to obtain some plants that she used for clothing dyes. She and Ned could swim in a safe pool, then come home and do some cleaning and start cooking supper.

"Makes sense," agreed Roxton. "Ned, take a couple of those grenades that we captured from Burton's slavers and throw one into the river. It should kill some fish without having to use a rod and reel to get them. Bring a few of the more desirable ones home. On the off-chance that Marguerite and I don't kill a deer or some other worthy prey, that'll give us some protein. Besides, I want fish as an option. See if you can get some peacock pavon; I like them better than I do the various catfish. Or, an arapaima would be good, if small enough to carry." (The arapaima is a huge fish at maximum size, some exceeding 300 pounds in larger rivers. But smaller ones of 25 pounds or so would be within the capabilities of the Malones to carry.)

"Okay," agreed Ned. And we can probably go by that berry patch on the way home. I'm sure that George would like blackberries. Heck, I love them, too. "

"I thought you said you loved me," teased Veronica. "What's this about you having a crush on berries?" She pouted, to general laughter.

"Be nice and I'll share the berries with you because I do love you," rejoined Ned.

Marguerite looked thoughtful. "Better take several of those grenades, Ned. "They come in handy against hostile tribes and big predators, too. You doubtless recall that John and I killed a T-rex with one that it snapped up when we rolled the thing at it, and Finn and I were saved in part due to those horrid little hand bombs when the headhunters came after us." (See, _Xingu!_ among our Mature-rated TLW fics.)

Malone nodded and asked for more scrambled eggs. He did like the idea of having a few grenades. One never knew if they might be needed on this Plateau.

CHAPTER TWO

Later that morning, the couples left for their respective goals.

As the others reached the turnoff to the small river that Ned and Veronica wanted to visit, they bade George and Finn farewell, Veronica again outlining just what they wanted from the Zanga village.

"I've got this stuff down, Vee," explained Finn. "I can write now, remember, and I jotted the details in my notebook. It'll be_ '_way cool. We won't screw up. The Genius has an amazing mind and I'm afraid to mess up, or Marguerite will tell blonde jokes."

She winked and the others laughed. "Yeah, I can do without more of those," declared Malone. He shook Challenger's hand as the girls embraced, and the couples went their separate ways.

Ned had grown to like the jungle more than he'd ever expected to. He listened to the sounds, recognizing many now for the animals that made them. He could even identify most of the birds they commonly heard. He asked Veronica about a few that puzzled him, being impressed as always by how thoroughly she knew this wild land and fitted into it. He watched as she ranged ahead at one point, tracking footprints that she decided were those of a tribe that sometimes traded with the Zanga. They weren't hostile to the white explorers and the Malones relaxed as the jungle princess told Ned that there was nothing to fear from these people. In any event, the footprints were probably over two hours old and they were unlikely to see the feet that had left them.

They soon arrived at the pool that the girls swam in when they came this way, and Veronica suggested that they eat and then swim.

"I didn't bring a swimsuit," Ned pointed out. "You didn't mention that you wanted me to join you if you took a dip."

"Well, Mr. Malone, I don't seem to have recalled to bring a swimsuit, either. Actually, you know very well that none of us has a swimsuit! Not that I think I'd want one, judging from your and the others' descriptions that I've had of them. They seem to cover even more of a girl than what I normally wear. But you know that Finn, Marguerite, and I swim in the nude. That's why you always blush a little and look interested when we say that we want to swim."

Ned grinned. "I'm not going to object to watching you swim nude. I just enjoy teasing you. You blush well. But let's eat first and talk enough to settle down after lunch before we swim. I've always been told not to swim right after eating."

Veronica nodded and they looked for a place that was wide enough for a campground and not too muddy to sit. They dragged over a fallen tree trunk to place their clothing on later and opened the picnic basket. They sat on another log, facing the first, having checked to be sure that no snakes, centipedes, etc. were lurking. Logs in the jungle often harbor or shade such creatures.

Lunch consisted of sandwiches of ocellated turkey meat, those birds having been brought south from Central America when the savage Tecamaya tribe had trekked down from Mexico and the Maya areas just beneath, such as British Honduras. (Now Belize.) After the Tecamaya reached the Plateau, some birds had escaped and now bred naturally over much of the region.

They had fruit, including oranges that Veronica was quite proud to have harvested from a nearby grove that her parents had found and improved. Some of the late Dr. Summerlee's seeds had also been used to enhance the quality of the fruit. And they had carrots and bananas, as well as _sangria_ wine punch that Veronica made from a local red wine and fruit juice. And they had avocados. These, like the ocellated turkeys, had come from Mexico with the Tecamaya.

After eating, they lounged, drinking more of the _sangria_ until they judged themselves to have digested lunch enough to get in the water. Ned used sunglasses with polarized lenses to scan the pool they planned to use for a swimming area. He had gotten these from a set of five found in a crashed airplane whose treasonous pilot had stolen them from a secret research lab where he had also obtained a shipment of iridium that was to have been used for Britain's defense experiments during World War One. Challenger had been on the scientific team that had developed the lenses and immediately recognized the sunglasses for what they were. The polarizing enabled Ned to see beneath much of the pool and scan it for dangerous fish, big snakes, and lurking turtles. This tributary did not harbor the tiny _candiru,_ a catfish that could slip inside a person in the water through the urinary tract and cause untold agony, even death. Nor was this stream and its attendant pools a refuge for electric eels or rays that could kill men, even horses, with the discharge from their muscles.

They had seen freshwater dolphins as they ascended the tributary from the larger river, but those mammals were in the main river, which they frequented at this time of year. The dolphins were pink, unlike oceanic dolphins, and Challenger had told them that there were at least four species known from South America, the only continent where they had been discovered. Roxton had once made a joke about how a drunk might feel if he saw pink dolphins after a long night with a bottle. "About on par with seeing pink elephants, I should think," he smiled.

"You can laugh," cautioned Veronica," but be careful if these swim near you. Get out of the water. They sometimes attack swimmers. They have teeth, but usually ram someone like they do sharks in oceans. Or, they kill Bull sharks in these rivers. Those can swim up from the ocean and travel a thousand or more miles to get here. They're probably the shark species that kills more people than any other and they have more testosterone than any other known animal, if George's friends are correct about an experiment they were doing when you guys came here. I imagine that the sharks in the lake at Xochilenque are Bull sharks."

All had seen how those sharks had attacked the fallen Tecamaya emperor Cuauhtémoc XIV and one of his _caciques_ when the explorers had fled Xochilenque with a very substantial treasure. Marguerite had shot the enemy leader in his small version of a Spanish galleon as he pursued the Treehouse crew, determined to capture them and sacrifice them to his gods. He had spun on being hit by the .303 bullet and fallen into the lake waters, where sharks had quickly arrived to feast on his struggling, wounded body.

(See, _The Crystal Skull of Xochilenque_ for the full story of that frightening adventure, in which Ned and Veronica became engaged. That fic is Rated Mature.)

But today, Ned saw no dangerous fish, reptiles, or mammals in the wide, clear pool where their women often swam. He pronounced the pool safe and took off the polarized sunglasses and put them into their hard case for safekeeping.

"Okay, Veronica, let's undress and get in if you want to get wet. You first. I want to lounge here and watch you strip. That has to be one of the finest sights known to mankind, probably in all of history." And Ned settled himself against a tree and gazed expectantly at his mate, who blushed at his request and praise.

"Okay, Studly," she agreed and looked at him lovingly as she reached to remove her upper garment, a sort of wide halter top. "Brace yourself, Ned. I wouldn't want you to have a heart attack if I excite you too much."

Ned grasped a fallen branch theatrically and said, "I'm braced, Honey. Take it off."

It was Veronica's turn to be impressed next. She lounged nude against a tree, trying not to blush as Ned removed his shirt. She knew what to expect, of course, as the couple had been intimate for several months, but she always thrilled to see his muscular chest, his physique having been toned and hardened since his journey of self discovery the prior year. He was not a tall man, about her height or a little more, but his bronzed limbs, the firm biceps, the trimness of his waist as he removed his trousers, excited her and made her begin to lubricate even before he was nude and moving toward the water.

Veronica moved to take his hand, that the pair of them might stroll into the river together, but Ned shook his head and lifted her (more easily than she expected that he could) and carried her gently to the edge of the current before setting her softly down in about four feet of water. The river was cool, but not enough to make her shiver as much as Ned's intense look and hands did as they began to move on her body, his lips kissing each of her eyes before reaching her lips. She shuddered, leaning closer as his hands played with her breasts, buoyant now in the water, the nipples distending and becoming as hard as cherry seeds.

The couple kissed, Veronica's heart racing as their lips and tongues probed, Ned's hands busy on her hair, back, and bottom. She tried to lift her body and wrap her legs around him, with the idea of him taking her as she did. But Ned turned her and walked her to the bank, where he had her walk up enough out of the water that her legs were exposed to the ankles.

"Bend over, Baby," he said, "and spread those gorgeous legs. I want you from behind, and I don't want to do it in the river. I don't trust that water to be clean enough from diseases and stuff. That looks romantic in movies and it's nice here, but I'd feel better doing this above the water line. I'll wrap you around my waist and sit you on some furniture when we get home, so we can do it that way, too. But not right now."

"Ned, I wanted to do that," she protested, feeling him put pressure on her back to bend her deeply, one of his legs prying hers more open. "Why do you like doing me from behind so much? Finn said that George does that to her a lot, too. I can't get Marguerite to say about John. Is this a big thing with men in general? "But she spread her legs widely and leaned over deeply, bracing her folded arms on a low branch. She cocked her bottom up and back, flushing deep pink as she thought how she must look.

Ned caressed her, paying special attention to her shapely hips. "I like the view from back here," he admitted. "Your backside is as wonderful as the front and I like the different pressure on me inside you from a rear angle. It's tighter, especially when you kneel low. That's part of it. And I guess it's sort of thrilling because most people today think it's a little naughty. It's more like wild animals, too. Maybe it's partly connected to times before we became fully human and it excites guys to act like our once beastly selves when we probably mostly did it this way, before girls began walking upright and we could do a frontal approach more easily." He didn't add that it also made him feel more in charge of her, more dominant. Ned liked that, and had realized it while on his journey of self discovery, when he had in fact made love to several girls that he never intended to mention to Veronica and probably not to his male pals when they discussed women. None of the three really went into much detail with their fellows about what they did with their present women, unlike some men who brag to their companions. All were basically more gentlemanly and more reserved than that. But it sounded now as if girls were more open about it.

"You and Finn discuss what we do in bed?" He was both offended and intrigued. "And how do you tell them I fare with you? You don't seem to have many complaints that I can see." He rammed harder into her, to his full depth, aroused by the thought of the women talking about sex.

Veronica realized what he was thinking and blushed, ashamed that she had let it out that the girls did talk, sometimes when they had drunk too much at a party and the men were beyond earshot. She explained that she had just wondered what men liked and had asked for advice from her "sisters", that she might pleasure Ned better. "I was pretty naïve when we started doing this, Studly," she reminded. "Apart from DuCart, you were my first lover. Danu never took me. He just wanted to. And I wanted to please you. Was that bad?"

"No," said Ned. "In fact, that's terrific. But you can just ask me what I like and I'll tell you or show you. So, George likes this, too? Or did Finn get him into it? I can see her liking it."

Veronica squeezed internally, giving Ned a little extra thrill. "Yes, Finny said that she had to get him into enjoying sex, relaxing and taking her any way but what she calls the missionary position. But after awhile, he seemed to come around and is now pretty open. And, yes, this doggy style stuff is a favorite of hers. She likes the sensations and the added penetration. Ned, don't you dare tell her I said so! What we girls say to one another is in confidence. Marguerite listens and smirks, but all that she'll say about what John does to her is that he's superb at everything, and that she won't embarrass herself by saying what she likes best. But he knows and he does it to her. She admits that! Oh, Ned! Go slower like that, and deep! And play more with my boobs. Goodness knows, they're hanging loose and free. I'm totally exposed to your lust! You have me liking this, too, you devil! Anyway, you have to promise me that what I said about the other girls is our own secret. I'd just die if they knew I'd told you this. They wouldn't trust me any longer."

"All right," agreed her mate. "But I'm exacting a price for my silence. You have to do this low on your knees a couple of times later today when we get home and you have to bake a blackberry pie. Challenger isn't the only one who likes those. Or, maybe bake a white pound cake with chocolate or white icing, if you'd rather. Or a carrot cake! We'll all eat that, too. And you have to wear that loincloth from Xochilenque tomorrow in our room and dance for me. And you have to keep waking up looking as wonderful as you always do, to get my days off to a great start. Think you can manage all of that, Mrs. Malone? I'll help you bake, though. I love spending time with you, even in the kitchen."

Veronica suppressed a giggle. Ned was so predictable, and she felt flattered at his attempt to manipulate her into doing what he wanted in bed… and in the kitchen. She felt pressured a little, but appreciated, and loved that he craved her attentions so much, even to wearing that silly brief ocelot fur loincloth that had so intrigued him since he had freed her from a cage in Xochilenque, when it had been her sole attire, unless one counted the ropes that had bound her. And Veronica realized that even they had probably caused Ned to think of her as especially erotic in that moment as he and Finn had hastened to free her and flee the approach of the Tecamaya enemy. She shuddered as she remembered her terror in that cage and Ned asked why she suddenly seemed cold.

"I just remembered where I was when you first started gawking at me in that loincloth, Ned. It scares me, even now. But you were so heroic, Studly. Start over and do me faster and play more with my nipples. Tug lightly on them a little. That feels so good! I want to give you the time of your life today, partly because I love you and partly to thank you for saving my hide that day. Oh, Ned! What if you hadn't found me then?!"

He leaned over and kissed her neck. "I did find you, and I would have, wherever you were. Veronica, I wanted you so much… and even before I saw you in that little gee string, I had decided to ask you to marry me before we got home from that trip. But after what we went through in Xochilenque and after seeing how totally arousing you were in that cage…I couldn't wait to propose that night. Thank you for accepting my ring. You made me the happiest man on Earth, and I still am. But I do want what I asked for just now, cake or pie and all." He laughed. "If there's anything I crave more than your supremely astounding body and your amazing face and golden hair, it may be your culinary skills."

She backed even closer into him, working her bottom to get tighter contact and started squeezing internally again. "Why, Mr. Malone, what wonderful things you say! No wonder I love you! Which do you want, Neddy, the blackberry pie, or the cake? We can pick berries for the pie on the way home. We brought those buckets, remember?"

Ned nuzzled her ear. "Right now, all I can remember is what you're doing to me as we make such excellent love as would stun the Grecian gods on Olympus. Tighten up that way again and rotate your hips some! Oh: really, I guess the pie. Picking berries is work, but with you there, even work is joy. This may mean that I have it bad for you, Untamed Jungle Beauty. "

She laughed. "You'd better have it bad for me, Ned, if you want me to do more of this." And she renewed her coital efforts, causing Ned to gasp in rapture and hold her tightly as they began to buck in spasms that rocked their world as the river swirled around their legs, cooling them on a summer day in what was sometimes paradise for both.

CHAPTER THREE

Later, they lay in the early afternoon sun, basking in its warmth and in their love until Ned mounted Veronica as she lay on her back on the blankets they'd brought. She wrapped her legs around his waist, as she'd wanted to do in the river and rode out his thrusts, savoring his ardor both physically and emotionally, for she knew that he craved her for more than her physical beauty.

After, Veronica ran her eyes over Ned's body as they dressed and wondered why she'd ever written him off as more of a brother than a potential lover. He wasn't tall but was well developed and hardened after his journey to find himself. And he now had an air of self confidence that she hadn't noticed to such a degree, and it impressed her. Ned was now a man more apt to expect certain things from her rather than seeming to piteously beg for them, whether by word or by attitude. And his heroism in Xochilenque had deeply affected her view of his basic courage and ability to defend her. She knew that his heart was true and that the love he offered was so genuine and deep that she'd be a fool to hope for more from some other man who might or might not come into her life.

In time, she wanted to bear his children. But now, the two were just fully discovering themselves as a unit and getting to be more relaxed and having fun as lovers. Veronica had managed to forgive Ned for impregnating Phoebe, an Amazon princess, and had met his daughter from that liaison. (See, _The Amazon Revelations_, rated Mature.) Now, she reveled in his love and what it meant to her to no longer feel the emotional void that she had. And she had decided that Ned would stay, valuing her more than his own world, beyond this weird Plateau that had so many secrets, many elusive and others dangerous. She had justified her lack of interest in him for two years by thinking that he'd leave her when he could. But she now knew that he would remain and they'd just take brief vacations off of the Plateau, and she accepted that she had replaced Gladys in Ned's heart, something that had once stood between them like a granite monolith, keeping the athletic blonde girl from ever considering Ned as a longterm lover.

Today, she felt warmed by their love and by the sun and was lazily content. She even bent over low to let Ned see her breasts better down her top as she drew on her boots, the tan suede ones with a sheath for a knife on the right boot. Veronica adjusted the sheath, strapping it snugly to her leg, reminding Ned that his fiancée was still a dangerous jungle woman if circumstance required her to react to a threat. But she was also an emerging lover, trusting and giving in her sincerity and in her generous spirit, and he loved her beyond words, the tools of his trade as a journalist. Ned was seldom beyond words, but for him, Veronica was a singular event in his life.

He watched now as she adjusted her turquoise and white and yellow- beaded arm band and looked at him with those clear blue eyes, a smile forming on her lips.

"Ned?" she asked. "Will you do me a favor and go shirtless in the Treehouse when we get home? Until the others get back? I like looking at you that way, Studly, and may as well admit it. I'll go topless for you, too. I just wasn't sure if you know what it means to a girl to see a man she loves and admires minus his shirt. I know that you like seeing me that way. I was still young when I realized how much men like to see girls' boobs. I just wonder if you guys know that we ladies are also affected by the male chest. But we are! You'd be surprised how often we giggle just looking at men in the Zanga village or talk about guys when we swim or hang out at home." She reddened under his amused gaze.

Ned smiled and ran a hand down her arm. "Okay, baby. I didn't know. It hadn't occurred to me that you look at Jacoba and giggle in appreciation for the male chest." He grinned.

Veronica rolled her eyes. "There are limits to what I appreciate about male chests, Ned. You draw my eye a lot more than Jacoba, but don't tell. He's got the strongest dose of vanity that I've seen in a human being who wasn't totally psychotic. You swagger now, like John Roxton. I kind of like that cocky male confidence. But Jacoba's vainer than George and George isn't particularly modest. He's mellowed and is more humane, but he's still a genius in his mind as well as in reality. By the way, Finn says that he has a very nice chest and is a very virile looking man in the buff. She admires his body as well as his mind. He's really kind of a god to her as well as her man."

"I hope you take Finn's word about George, but I've seen him without a shirt when we work on the windmill and he is built very well for a man his age. This place keeps him in shape and he's big, too. I always somewhat resented that, but he isn't physically vain, like Roxton. He just takes his size and strength for granted, as if it befitted a man of his supreme qualities. But, yes, I'll go shirtless today at home if you will. And thanks for asking. It makes my day. Men like compliments, too. Ready to go?"

He reached for the travois on which they had packed their gear and she nodded. "Lead on, Studly. Let's go get those berries. I want to bake two pies. Everyone likes those blackberry pies. And while they bake, you can ogle me in that silly little loincloth and maybe less. Ned, I think I've become a real hussy. I get off on you gawking at me and I melt under your hands. Try to stay a little modest now that you know your effect on me.

"Come on. I'll wash off some berries and feed them to you to give you energy to pick more."

But they had gone barely two hundred yards when motion beside the stream attracted her sharp eyes. She gestured to Ned. "Green anaconda. About 15 feet." And they watched as the huge serpent slithered into the water barely 30 feet from them. They were reminded that the Plateau required alertness, even on the most peaceful of days.

CHAPTER FOUR

Lord John Roxton drew the bolo machete from its leather sheath strapped to his pack and cleared brush carefully from a blind where he and Marguerite would sit and wait for animals to come down a shady path toward a stream that eventually flowed into the river nearest the Treehouse. He hid the cut reeds and cattails and shaped the opening that he had made, enabling them to look out at passing game and creating firing ports for their rifles.

"I do like this machete," he opined, cleaning the blade with water and dry grass, lest plant juices rust the instrument. It was one of a number that they had recovered from the camp of an expedition that had perished after encountering a demon freed from a tomb. (See the TV episode, _Suspicion_, Third Season.) The explorers had salvaged quite a variety of items from the camp of the dead scientists, including many machetes, of several styles. Everyone in the camp had owned at least one, with spares in case of breakage or loss and to serve as trade goods with Indian tribes. This one had a 15-inch blade, a bit wider and somewhat rounder at the tip than the longer, more traditional sort. It had some of the appearance of a long butcher knife, and its weight gave it plenty of chopping power for its size. Marguerite now also sometimes wore a smaller machete on her pack, identical to the one that Finn had taken on their adventure in which they had narrowly avoided being taken captive by the dreaded Xingu tribe of headhunters. (See, _Xingu!_ rated as Mature.) It had a blade just a foot long, but was very handy to carry and was a versatile tool for the jungle, and a worthwhile weapon, if pressed into use in an emergency. It was especially handy to cut food found growing in the forest and Finn had used hers to finish off a tropical rattlesnake that she had first hit with a thrown rock. Later, it had come in handy to slay a huge tarantula that found its way into an ancient temple where the girls were sheltering from an intense storm.

That bit with the tarantula had more than anything else convinced Marguerite to ask John for such a machete and to sew canvas loops to her pack to carry it when she went far from their home. She hated snakes. If possible, she hated arachnids and similar things even more. A foot of sharp steel in hand might be all that stood between her and another tarantula or a centipede, etc. Overall, she quite wished to be back in England, ordering tea in Fortnum &amp; Mason this afternoon instead of lurking here in the bush to kill groceries on the hoof. But fate had decreed otherwise and she was glad to have the pack and its contents, a good rifle, and that sharp little Collins brand machete. But she was quite satisfied for Roxton to do the actual cutting of the hole in the reeds for their rifles. It wasn't as much fun as watching him chop wood with an axe, but it was masculine work and she had enjoyed watching his muscles flex as he carefully trimmed the reeds. And it was surely better for him to have to wipe down his blade than for her to have to do that. Men were so useful, if you knew how to manage them! And John was also rather nice to look at and to share her droll banter…

"All done?" she inquired. "I doubt that anything coming along can see us, the way that you so artfully created those little gaps. Do you fancy lunch first, or shall we sit here in the shade and lie in ambush first? If we don't eat, the food may spoil in this heat. And I really want to pour the tea while it's still hot in the vacuum bottle. I crave tea on the trail. It seems the main reward for hiking all over this damned jungle just to find meat on the hoof."

Roxton smiled. He was used to her griping and had come to relish her wry humor, now much mellowed from their early days on the Plateau." I can do with a cup of tea, myself," he admitted. "Just set your rifle in place where you can lift it quietly if needed. It's early for game to be moving, so we may as well eat now. Indulge yourself."

He laid his own .318 Westley Richards rifle where he could ease it up with minimal motion if either game or danger approached. The smell of food from the picnic hamper did indeed appeal to him. He hoped that game would wait until later to appear

What had he seen the women packing in that basket? Aha, yes…"Pass me a turkey one, Marguerite," he said, "with a glass of that _sangria_ that Veronica made."

CHAPTER FIVE

George Challenger and Finn were able to reach the Zanga village without incident, although they arrived somewhat tired from the trek. They were warmly welcomed by Paramount Shaman Xma'Klee and his wives and Chief Jacoba sent greetings, although too busy in tribal council to meet the eminent scientist and his mate in person. But his daughter Assai rushed over and hugged Finn and asked for any news from the Treehouse.

Challenger and Finn were treated to a meal of squash, manioc, spinach (from seeds provided by the late Dr. Arthur Summerlee) and a mildly intoxicating native punch. Dessert was bananas. The main course was fish, the tribe's nets having taken a large arapaima and two smaller ones that morning. They had also caught some pacu, and these were popular fare, if less physically imposing than the big arapaimas. Although usually vegetarian, the pacu was related to the dreaded piranha and resembled them closely at a glance. However, pacu usually grew larger, although some of the largest black piranhas rivaled them for size.

Va'nunu, one of Xma'Klee's wives, was skilled in making tomato-based sauces that included green peppers, and she had done a splendid job of preparing lunch. Both the Treehouse visitors and the shaman's family ate with gusto and praised Va'nunu's cooking. Challenger was privately grateful that she had not included any hot peppers, to which he had a distinct aversion. Even Finn, although technically a_ brasileira, _was not especially fond of hotter dishes. She was, after all, Anglo from an ethnic standpoint. They had been expected, so perhaps their known reluctance to eat hotter spices had been recalled and the menu chosen accordingly.

Following lunch, Challenger retired with Xma'Klee to his private hut and they discussed news and debated cures and the herbs and other plants that they were using to achieve medical remedies. The shaman cautioned George that a large jaguar had attacked three hunters that month, killing two and gravely injuring the third. It had also raided their livestock, killing several goats. Challenger promised to relay this word to his companions on returning home and said that he and Finn would take special care as they traveled. Of course, they always had to be wary of jaguars, pumas, snakes, various predatory dinosaurs, and the like. But a known man killer among the big cats was cause for extra caution. It had eaten part of one human victim, making it a man-eater, too, and might thereafter prey on humans. Challenger hoped that the Zanga hunters would kill it before it could menace the Treehouse. He would tell his "family", of course, but hoped fervently that neither Finn nor Roxton would insist on hunting it. Either was likely to see such a cat as a challenge and a source of fine sport. With luck, he and Marguerite could talk some sense into their most ardent hunters and convince them that their daily lives were dangerous enough without seeking added thrills.

Finn joined several Zanga women, including Assai and Sa'eera, Jacoba's youngest wife and a good friend. She had a bundle of trade goods and the list of items that Veronica wanted her to barter for. The ladies were soon discussing fabrics, household decorations, clothes, and the other things that women do in such settings. Then, Sa'eera told her about the jaguar, and Finn had to concentrate to keep her mind on her proper business as Veronica's friend and Challenger's virtual spouse. She kept thinking what a lark it would be to convince Johnny Roxton to join her in hunting the spotted killer!

CHAPTER SIX

Ned and Veronica gathered blackberries until they had filled their woven baskets, and then started for home.

As they passed the point where the tributary they had followed ran into the larger river, Ned recalled that some among their number had asked for fish. He had brought no tackle, and they lacked time to fish the conventional way if they were to reach home and enjoy privacy while their friends were away. Ned was eager to see Veronica out of her clothes, which today were her older style with a reddish brown suede bra and a shorter wraparound loincloth than what she had worn frequently for over a year now. But today, she wore boots instead of the laced sandals that she had once favored. The boots protected her calves better in the jungle and allowed her to strap a knife to one leg. If she tried that with the high-laced sandals, the sheath kept slipping around on her leg and abrading it and not being in place when needed.

Her other knife was worn on her belt. Today it was a Remington RH-36 with a stag antler handle and six-inch blade, salvaged from the same group of scientists ravaged by a demon previously cited in this tale. Roxton had made her a sturdier sheath, dyed dark chocolate brown and polished to a soft gloss. Like with the knives that he made for Finn and Marguerite, he had sewn a pocket for a hone on this sheath. Ned drank in her beauty in this outfit and was reminded of his early assessment of her: an untamed jungle beauty!

"Whet's the matter, Ned? You're staring at me." Veronica suspected the cause of his interest, but wanted to be sure that she didn't have anything awry and that his interest in her was motivated by lust combined with sentiment. She'd come to accept and even look forward to his frequent admiration of her. It was a little embarrassing, but also fulfilling. She glowed as she thought how true his love was and how happy she was that she had finally accepted his pursuit of her.

"Nothing at all is wrong," replied Ned." That's why I'm staring. You're one of the great sights in this hemisphere, if not the world. And I love that old outfit, for variety. I know you're mad that the loincloth shrank some when it got wet, but it just lets me see more of your legs, which are marvelous items to behold. I could stand here and gawk at you all day, but I guess I'd better get us some fish. This pool should have plenty. Pass me one of those grenades."

He turned his back and Veronica fumbled carefully in his pack until she found one of the heavy, segmented little hand bombs. Being careful not to dislodge the handle and its vital retention pin, she passed him the deadly dull green grenade. Burton's slavers had bought these on the black market, the shipment having originally been provided by the U.S. Army to Brazilian Army authorities.

"You'd better take cover on the ground behind that big fallen tree," he instructed, gesturing to a forest giant that had collapsed. "When I throw this thing into the water, I'll run over and join you. I'll have a few seconds before it explodes."

Veronica nodded, a little afraid of the devilish horror that he held in his hand. She knew the good that one could do, but it's diffusion of sharp metal shards was always something to contend with carefully, lest the explosion injure anyone not intended to become a victim. She moved to the tree, looked for snakes or scorpions or centipedes or other threats on the ground, and then lay down, her pack beside her. She put the baskets of berries in front of her head for added protection and called out to Ned that she was ready.

He pulled the pin, let the handle fly off, and heaved the grenade some 20 feet out into the pool, which was flowing smoothly, if not strongly. Ned jumped onto the log and rolled down beside Veronica some three seconds before they heard the muffled WHUMP! of the explosion, then a momentary geyser of water erupted from the river and some splashed the Malones in their refuge.

Ned waited a few seconds, and then crawled over the big log, extending a collapsible net with a telescoping handle that they had found among the gear left by the perished expedition. He avoided any fish that had been torn open, splashing in their own blood. He chose instead to rake in several fish that were stunned or killed without excessive violence.

Veronica joined him and they claimed three of the species called peacock bass by North Americans although they were not true bass. They grew at least as large and fought even harder when caught on conventional tackle and tasted better. And they were far more colorful! They put these on a metal stringer and added a couple of fat pacu, the weight then being as much as they could bear, with the added burden of the berries and their packs and Ned's powerful .450 rifle. Their wooden travois was all that enabled them to transport burdens of such weight. Ned was glad that he had recalled North American Indians transporting supplies this way. But a travois had to remain relatively light to enable it to be towed in this jungle. The Plains tribes in the USA had been able to use heavier ones after they had acquired horses, transporting even their teepee dwellings and other heavier goods.

"I hate fishing this way," the American admitted. "It's wasteful, somewhat cruel, and we can't do it a lot or we'll run out of grenades. But today, I think it was justified and we got some good fish. By the way, you notice that I passed on collecting any catfish. I don't especially like eating them, and they remind me of many lawyers and most tabloid journalists. They're bottom feeders."

The jungle beauty rolled her eyes. "Oh, Ned! That's sort of funny, I grant you. But some of our catfish down here in Brazil are more active than those in the USA, I guess. That red-tailed one floating over there swims pretty fast and will pursue other fish or whatever it can swallow. Big ones of other species can even swallow a child and the Zanga say that they've lost several kids who were taken by large catfish while swimming. Some may even be able to swallow an adult. They probably reach 600 pounds, although not usually this high on the Plateau. They hang out more in the wider, deeper rivers down below. Good gosh, look at the scavengers! Your grenade is going to feed a lot of animals today besides us!"

She referred to the herons and egrets that swooped down to attack struggling or floating fish, and then the pink dolphins arrived from further upriver. They slashed into the dying fish, as did a big caiman that had either survived the blast or been beyond its range.

"I feel guilty looking at this carnage, even if it does feed the species that are taking advantage of the event," muttered Ned. "Let's go home."

And so the Malones left the jungle, looking forward to seeing their beloved Treehouse soon. They walked side by side, the better to tow the berry baskets and the heavy stringer of fish on their travois. After a few minutes, Ned looked over at Veronica and she was smiling.

"I love you, Ned Malone, "she said, and the journalist's heart beat faster.

"I love you right back, Mrs. Malone," he added and Veronica glowed even more. Ned felt better about fishing via hand grenade and the day suddenly seemed fine.

Looking at one another, neither noticed the jaguar tracks that they passed over.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Challengers completed their business in the Zanga village and excused themselves, pleading that they had a long journey home and that the day would soon be fading. They had been successful in bartering for most of what the other ladies had requested and Finn felt good about her success and about the village gossip that she would pass on to the women in the Treehouse. Despite her tomboy interest in guns and outdoor sports, she was otherwise exquisitely feminine and enjoyed most typical women's activities, although she was happy to leave sewing lace and such specialized skills to Marguerite.

She began smiling as she remembered what George and Roxton had been teaching her the previous week about the voyages of Christopher Columbus. "Hey, Genius, "she said. "Do you realize what a good thing it is that Marguerite wasn't queen of Spain or Castile or whatever when Columbus sailed? Queen Isabella sold her jewels or a lot of them to finance Columbus's ships, right? Can you imagine what Queen Marguerite would have done? No way would she have sold her jewels to buy those ships! So, Europeans might never have reached the New World and history would have been really different!"

Challenger was baffled. Only Finn would think of such a thing and be amused by it! Well, if she repeated this back at the Treehouse, Ned might laugh out loud. He and Marguerite had had their difficult moments, although the brunette heiress was now much mellowed over her earlier days on this high mesa. But Roxton might take exception, as might Marguerite herself. Indeed, he, George Challenger, was now a fast friend of the future Countess of Avebury and felt a little disapproving of his mate's wry comment. Still, it did have the ring of truth, and he smiled despite hoping that she wouldn't say this again where it might prove a barb in Marguerite's hide.

"Really, Finn," he said. "Honestly, you sometimes think about the oddest things! Given that Marguerite isn't even Spanish; I think we would be spared that possibility, however reluctant she would be to part with her gems if she had lived then. Try to remember darling, that she has lived an insecure life, as have you. She clings to those jewels as you do to your guns and knives and binocular. Each of you finds security in different things, and you have been very happy to have the treasure that we took out of Xochilenque. And I feel sure that one of the reasons why you initially sought to win my love is that you needed a gentleman of means to be both mentor and financial supporter to you when we leave this place. No, don't tell me that you eventually found more to me, and that you love me for real now. I realize that. But I think that you and Marguerite have some things in common, young lady, and you must not be too quick to joke at her expense. Would YOU have been willing to believe that Italian explorer and sell your gems to enable him to make a voyage that many were sure would be fruitless?"

Finn was subdued, hurt that George wasn't laughing at what she thought was a good joke about Marguerite's nature. After all, he was her partner! Whose side was he on here? Sometimes, George sounded more like a scolding father than like a lover.

So occupied, she almost missed a flicker of motion in a low bush that they were approaching. Then her keen senses registered the shape of whatever had rustled a branch. "Genius, stop!" she yelled. "Snake!"

CHAPTER EIGHT

Roxton had finished a turkey sandwich and was browsing in the picnic basket for other morsels. He found some Kiwi fruit, and then Marguerite pointed out that she had packed extra dill pickles, knowing his fondness for them.

"You aren't getting mine," she vowed, brandishing her pickle. "But Finn told me to pack plenty, so there are a couple left. Feel free to gorge yourself like the glutton that I know you to be."

Roxon smiled. "Marguerite, it isn't pickles that I want from you. But what I do want is better postponed until we're back in our room at the Treehouse and you've undressed. I'll then reveal my mystery desire." He waggled his eyebrows at her and she blushed crimson.

"John, really! At least, we're alone, and I don't have to worry about you embarrassing me with your ribald remarks and expressions of lust. I think I know very well what your heart –or penis! - desires of me and you're nothing if not consistent. It seems to be the universal wish that every man whom I've met since puberty wants of me. Your gender is at least easy to predict!"

He tried to look both surprised and hurt. "Ah, so you already know how much I want to rub your back?"

Marguerite laughed. "You may want to do that as foreplay, but I rather fancy that it would rapidly lead to more. But a massage does sound nice. Maybe if you do it well, you'll get what you really want. And I'm sure that we aren't discussing a home-cooked meal. If that was what you were after, you'd be trying to flatter Veronica, not me!"

"Now that you mention it, I could go for that, too. I just want to ravish your relatively pure white body first. I say, Marguerite: do you suppose it'll be too late in the day to get Veronica to bake a pie, maybe pumpkin? After Ned introduced us to pumpkin pie, I find that I quite like it. His American Thanksgiving custom and the attendant food has its merits."

Marguerite groaned. "I should have remembered your other passion. If you aren't after sex, it's food. Seriously, I think she and Ned were going to gather blackberries on their way home. They took baskets for that, remember? As I recall, you saw them loading those onto their travois and unless my eagle eye has erred, you surreptitiously looked down her bra when she bent over to load that gear." She gave her mate a tart look, not altogether in jest.

The Earl of Avebury thought quickly. If he could get his woman to laugh, she might be less vehement about telling him what she thought of his roving male eye. "I swear, Marguerite, I was just concerned that her top might be about to come loose like it did when she danced last month. I was only looking to be certain that I didn't need to warn her of an impending accident like that. Ned would have been so embarrassed! Fortunately, everything was in place and looking fine. And I assure you, that if I look at Veronica, it is only to admire her as animate sculpture. You, she, and Finn all draw the male eye. We lads can't help but look. However, I promise you that anything beyond looking, I limit to you. Actually, I even feel truly good about pursuing only you now. It's rather fulfilling to know that I love you and no longer feel the need to chase other women. But about that pie… Are you saying that they're baking a blackberry one and that I'd better wait a few days to ask for the pumpkin one?"

Marguerite's lips tightened. "Roxton, you aren't going to distract me by changing the subject! Never mind the damned pie, although, yes, they're baking a berry one. Wait a few days to request the pumpkin one. Now, back to your little visual indiscretion, why is it that men feel such an uncontrollable compulsion to stare at the boobs of over- endowed blondes? Or at blondes in general? I'm quite sure that you and the other boys enjoy looking at everything that Finn and Veronica have, at least that they don't cover, and neither is ever going to be widely thought of as overdressed. Both are exhibitionists, although Veronica is more natural and innocent about it, less scheming. By the way, that pickle that you're fumbling for is in the little box wrapped in the right corner of the picnic basket. And pass me an orange for an after dinner sweet while we watch you try to wiggle your way out of my question about the mass appeal of blondes."

The earl handed his lady the orange and reached for the box with the pickles. He was trying desperately to think of a way to explain the appeal of blonde women when Marguerite reached over and squeezed his knee quickly, at once withdrawing her hand and reaching for her rifle.

Roxton looked intently at her and saw that she was gazing toward the jungle behind him.

"John, there's something back there," she whispered. "I think it's watching us and I don't think it's friendly."

He noticed that her face had gone pale under its light suntan. Her mind was no longer on interrogating him about the reasons why blondes drew his attention. He reached out a hand for his rifle, trying to move naturally and casually, as if he didn't know that he was being observed. But he felt the hair on his neck rise as he moved the weapon across his lap and prepared to roll to his right and cover the dark jungle. He was glad that he had already fed a cartridge into the chamber of the Westley Richards and hoped that whatever was there would be easy to kill with one shot. If it was close, that might be all that he'd get!

CHAPTER NINE

Challenger pulled up short, just beyond the branch to which Finn was pointing. She pulled him back and pointed out what they soon determined was an Eyelash Viper, a nasty little arboreal pit viper that caused many snakebites among local tribes. Its name derived from erect scales that protected the eyes as it moved in branches of trees and bushes, its primary habitat. The bites were usually not fatal, but did sometimes result in loss of limbs or normal function in same, and were extremely painful. If victims recovered, it took them a long time, in awful pain with swollen limbs and dead tissue that shamans had to excise. Being bitten by an Eyelash Viper was best avoided.

"Damned varlet," Challenger muttered. "Thank you, Darling. I was looking your way and didn't see that reptilian devil. Well, now that we have seen it, I suppose we'd better veer off the path for a bit and go around it. I don't much fancy wasting a cartridge on it, and if we stay out of its reach, it isn't likely to come off of that branch and attack. It's not as if they were as aggressive as the Tropical Rattlesnake or the Bushmaster often are."

"True, Genius," she admitted. "But this path is used all the time by our Zanga friends and by us. Those snakes like to hang out in about the same place all the time, and the odds are really good that this thing will bite me or Vee or Assai soon if we miss seeing it in time. And this big, thick bush is right at the edge of this slope, where if the path is muddy and slick, one of us would reach out to steady herself on the bush as we climb the slope. If that snake is there at the time, we'd get bitten! I'm going to look around for a big stick and kill that little bastard. My machete is too short to get in close to it. The machete has a twelve-inch blade and the snake is a good two and a half feet long, pretty big for one of that species. If I miss my first slash at it, it might tag me. You wouldn't like my arm all black and bursting open and bleeding, right?"

"No, of course, not, Finn. Don't be needlessly dramatic. I wore my longer machete today, with a 22-inch blade. One of those nice American Collins ones that we got from those poor scientists that the demon slew… I feel sure that if I'm careful, I can kill it with a slash or two and avoid its reach. It can only strike for about half of its length or a little more."

Ned favored machetes with 18-inch blades, and Challenger was glad that he and Roxton, being well over six feet tall, were able to manipulate longer ones well. Today, this gave him added peace of mind in striking at the dangerous reptile. Even Finn's foot-long blade might have sufficed, but one sometimes wants the added insurance of additional reach when available.

He took off his pack to get at the machete strapped to it in a colorful leather sheath with red and green leather fringe and hand tooling. He also wanted to be free of the pack to give him added range of motion if he had to move quickly to avoid a strike by the venomous little snake, which was easy to miss seeing as its green and yellow colors blended so well into the background foliage. Most people bitten by these pit vipers never saw them until they had been struck by the fangs.

He handed Finn his .450 Nitro Express rifle and she took it and her own Mannlicher-Schoenauer 6.5mm carbine and stood well clear of the stout bush with the snake.

"George," she said, "I apologize for the joke about Marguerite and her blasted jewels. I don't want you thinking about that and getting bitten when you need to focus on the nasty little running brook of horror on that branch. Look, I can probably find a rock and knock it off the branch and wound it if that'd help. Maybe kill it."

The brilliant visionary shook his head and smiled. "No, that might just knock it onto one of us or closer, or let it escape injured. I think the branch is solid enough to take the shock of my blow without sagging and softening the strike. I've found that reptiles are much easier to behead if you get them on solid ground or a sturdy limb. If the ground is soft, it may take several slashes to get through their skin and flesh. I don't want to have to saw at that head. Fortunately, I honed this blade yesterday, and it's quite sharp. I think one good swing will do the job well."

He swung the machete a time or two to get the feel of it and it balanced and moved well. In fact, it was becoming his favorite machete, and they had a good selection from which to choose.

"Well, I'm as ready as can be. The snake has seen us and is poising to strike." With that, he stepped smartly forward and aimed a powerful stroke from his blade at the coiling serpent.

There was a blur of motion as the pit viper struck, and then its head collided with the descending edge of the long bush knife and was split into roughly equal halves. The blade was embedded in the split skull and back into the neck, and Challenger swung heartily, throwing the dying reptile clear and back into the jungle to the right of the trail. He followed up and finished beheading it with a second slash from the sharp blade.

"By Jove, Finn, did you see that? It struck so fast that it ran right into the blade as it came at it. I think it was trying to bite the blade! That caused it to lock onto the sight of the moving blade and to meet its doom! What a bit of luck! I've heard that a snake will lock onto the sight of a revolver barrel and prepare to strike at it as your arm approaches; which makes it easier to shoot rattlesnakes and the like. They practically aim themselves at your gun as you fire. The gun muzzle after all is the closest part of you to the snake and it identifies that as the threat. If that is true, and I think it may be, it certainly helps to brain the villains with your first shot.

"Oh. What were you saying? About apologizing for the joke? Never mind, Darling. I perhaps overreacted. It is rather humorous, but tell Ned in private, where the Roxtons won't get their feelings hurt and cause Marguerite to make a tart response that might ruin everyone's evening."

Finn brightened. "So, we're cool then, Lover? I promise to be more careful in future. I just thought of that thingee about her jewels and I thought that you'd laugh. Want to spank my smarty pants cute butt for it?" She grinned and turned, bending to present her shapely bottom to him.

He snorted and gave her trim posterior a halfhearted smack and told her to behave. But he was smiling as he shook his head at her antics and looked for a clump of dry grass to pull to clean the blade of the machete. He was never able to stay angry at Finn for long. She had a knack for getting him to laugh and smooth over most of the few transgressions that she committed that riled his temper. And she had made him relax more and enjoy life more fully. He was once again grateful that she had come into his world and made him feel young again and more carefree. This and the ease with which he had slain the dangerous snake made him feel quite chipper. He swung the machete again, rejoicing at the way it felt in his hand.

"My hero," teased Finn. She set the rifles down against his pack and stepped into his arms and he hugged her as they kissed, Challenger being careful to keep the bloody machete clear of his mate's clothing.

As he poured water onto the blade and scrubbed it with the dried grass, Finn shook their largest canteen and announced that they had plenty of water for the trek home. They hadn't even drunk much from any of the other three canteens on the travois.

"Want to stop at that curve ahead with the big rocks and make a fire and brew tea?" she asked. "I could do with a cup, and you deserve to celebrate that chop job on the snake. That was actually pretty impressive and I'm not just saying so because I love you and want to make you feel good about yourself. That's a cool way to impress girls and prove that it's really you and not Tarzan who's Lord of the Jungle."

She beamed at him and Challenger chuckled and told her that he would indeed enjoy a cup of tea, and that the rocks were a good place to stop for the purpose. He remembered that he had brought sardines and was glad that Finn was one of the few women whom he'd known who would eat them, especially if packed in mustard.

He sheathed the now cleaned machete and they donned their packs and rifles and prepared to tug the travois down the trail. The big scientist tipped up Finn's chin and leaned down to kiss her lips.

"Finn? How did I get along all through life until I met you and discovered how it feels to be treated as if I was ten feet tall and the luckiest man to have lived? You bring me great joy, and I try to remember to thank the Almighty daily for having you enter my life. You even manage to sugar my tea precisely right." Challenger gazed fondly into his mate's big blue eyes, looking into her soul and making her smile and look content.

"You saved me from New Amazonia, Lover. That kind of made my day, all day, all the time, from now on. And when I have nightmares from my past or feel insecure, you hold me and make everything okay. The least that I can do is to stroke your male ego, especially when I really do admire you. Making tea for you is a pleasure. Heck, I want some, too."

The Challengers gazed fondly at one another for a moment more, and then composed themselves and began pulling the travois toward home, with a pause for tea. Life was good; thought George. He wondered how their housemates were faring on this fine afternoon.

CHAPTER TEN

Ned and Veronica were nearly home, approaching the Treehouse from the north, where the jungle was heaviest. They heard, and then saw, a troop of spider monkeys in the canopy of the forest. Trees here were shorter than those they'd passed through, and the monkeys were only some 75 feet above the ground. They often gave vent to raw emotion on seeing humans and sometimes threw small branches, fruit or their offal at people. This was accompanied by howls of rage and ferocious leaping about. Thus, the Malones were not surprised when they saw this display.

But today was different in that a big black monkey seemed more vicious than most. He approached closer and Veronica barely dodged what he threw at her, something better flushed down a toilet under more civilized circumstances. This filth also barely missed the travois, piled with their fresh fish and other supplies.

"You little bastard!" exclaimed Ned. He'd prefer to pass on and ignore the usual display of histrionics from this subspecies of the black spider monkey typical of Central and South American jungles. These on the Plateau tended to be larger and more aggressive, this big male weighing probably 25 pounds. About as large as spider monkeys normally get, he was more violent than either of the Malones had previously seen. Ned was incensed at the monkey's behavior, and his urge to protect Veronica stirred both his anger and his action.

He looked around rapidly and found a rock weighing about as much as a baseball. Ned knew something about throwing baseballs from his youth and his aim was good. The rock struck the monkey in the chest, it having now descended to within 30 feet of the humans, barking more nastily all the time. And the rest of his troop were coming lower now; would soon dare to heave their own bundles of refuse at the Malones.

Veronica drew an arrow from her quiver and nocked it to her bowstring. She usually avoided violence against animals not being hunted for food or to protect herself and her friends. But the situation was declining, and she feared that if they continued along the trail, she and Ned would be struck with dung or anything else that came to hand for the angry ceboid primates.

She didn't have to launch the arrow. The alpha male of the troop swung even lower, screaming epithets in his own language. Ned, startled and afraid that the monkey would jump on him or his mate, drew his automatic pistol and thumbed back the hammer to cock it. He had a cartridge in the chamber and the seven-shot magazine in the handle was full. He held the front sight on the chin of the offending simian and pulled the trigger of the Colt .45.

BLAM! The report of the shot was loud in the confined space, the trail closely infringed by trees, bushes, and exotic looking ferns with bright, vivid flowers. The monkey took the bullet through his nose and the 230 grain (weight) metal jacketed bullet tore out the back of his skull as it exited. The big monkey dropped dead on the spot, landing directly in front of the Malones.

Ned walked over and kicked it. "Creepy little varmint," he proclaimed. "How dare you throw that at my woman?" He was truly angry and Veronica sensed that much of that anger was because of the insult and physical threat to her.

The remainder of the troop howled in protest, threw a few more broken-off branches and twigs, and then bolted for safety as Ned again raised his Colt. They knew now what the blue-black thing in his hand could do, and they wanted no more of it.

Veronica replaced the green and yellow-fletched arrow in her quiver, Ned holstered the Colt after flicking the safety lever up to the "on" position and they hastily towed the travois toward the Treehouse until reaching the edge of the jungle and passing onto the open plain that they used to observe anything approaching their home and providing a killing ground if attacked.

They looked back at the forest and Veronica exclaimed, "I wonder what on earth provoked THAT?"

XXX

Half a mile away, two Zanga hunters moved through the jungle with a dead spider monkey slung on a pole between their shoulders. They were too far away from the Malones to have heard Ned's shot, and would have just dismissed it as being from the Treehouse people in any case. It did not involve them, and they were satisfied with their kill. Unlike the whites in Veronica's home, Indians routinely ate monkeys. Although they would never know it, nor would Ned and Veronica, these hunters having just killed a member of the monkey troop was what had triggered the already nervous, basically antisocial primates' attack on the Malones. An ocelot had taken another the previous afternoon and the troop was still agitated after the two deaths.

XXX

But the incident had one worthwhile aspect for Ned. As they neared the Treehouse, Veronica turned to him and asked, "Ned? Did you kick that monkey partly because you were mad that he almost hit me with that mess? Or did you say that just to please me?" She searched his eyes for the truth.

Ned shrugged. "Yes, he really made me mad when he threw that at you. I'd be mad enough if he'd thrown it at me, but you're, well, more pure and innocent or something, and much better looking. And I love you. So I guess I kind of lost my temper. Nobody or nothing can do that to you with impunity if I can help it. You're too precious to me."

Veronica smiled and stepped over and kissed the surprised American. "Thanks, Studly. I really don't think that you should have kicked the poor thing. Shooting it was enough! But now that I know why you did it, it makes me glad once again that I fell for you. It's nice to have a man to look out for me. Usually, I don't need it, but today, you were my hero, like you were when you and Finny saved me in Xochilenque. Let's go up and get these fish cleaned and in the refrigerator, and then you and I are going to play a little game called Catch the Girl. If you catch me, you can have me do whatever you want to make your day perfect. How's that for an incentive to clean fish?" She grinned at him and Ned blushed.

"How hard is it going to be to catch you? You're a pretty good runner. I don't want to use up all of my energy chasing you. It's been a long trek today and I want to have enough strength left to make love when I get you."

Veronica smiled and caressed him intimately. "I'm not going to be very hard at all to catch. I'll even make a pitcher of lemonade to give you enough energy to enjoy catching me. And I think I can arouse your interest once you have me." She ran her tongue around her lips and blushed, herself.

"In that case, lets' go clean some fish," said Ned. "And that lemonade sounds great, too. It lets me have two of my favorite treats in one day."

"Hey," said Veronica, running a hand down his arm setting his senses afire with desire. "I kind of like being a nurturing wife. I didn't know what I was missing when I was just an untamed jungle beauty. I love you, Ned, and I'm going to prove it to you until the last possible moment when we have to shower and dress before the others get home. Get ready to be thrilled. At least, I'll do my best to impress you."

"That should be easy," he replied. "You always impress me, Veronica, and have since the minute that I laid eyes on you."

"Thanks, Ned. But I was so stupid not to have let you into my life more fully before I did. So, I guess I owe you some extra impressing. Have fun collecting!"

She was laughing as she summoned the elevator.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Roxton ran his eyes over the jungle, knowing that something lurked in there. Like Marguerite, he sensed it, really knew it in his bones and in the prickling at the back of his neck. He had spent too much time in war and in hunting dangerous animals not to know when something was wrong. He felt Marguerite stir beside him.

"John what is it? Raptors, do you think? If it is, why don't they show themselves? They're usually rather aggressive if they want meat, meaning us. I think whatever is back there knows that we're here."

"And that we're now aware of it," he agreed. "Look, Marguerite: something just went up that tree to the left and about 60 yards back, fast. It's sitting on the fifth limb up the trunk. Get your binocular while I watch with my rifle ready and see what it is. The glass should let you pick it out from the foliage."

She nodded and eased the .303 rifle onto her pack after digging out the Zeiss 8X30 binocular. She adjusted the instrument to the distance at which the unknown animal sat, and then focused closely on the dim shape as it shuffled back and forth on the limb. It was looking at something on the ground to its right and seemed nervous, about to flee if need be. Then, it walked into a sunny patch on the limb and she saw what looked to her like a sort of badger crossed with an agile dog. The closest that she could think of was an African honey badger, but this animal lacked the gray trim to its fur and had a leaner muzzle and more of a mink or otter shape to it. But the head was longer and more tapered than a mink's or otter's…and it was smaller than a honey badger, which she had seen in other places, earlier in her life.

The heiress described the animal to her lover and he muttered, "It's probably a tayra. They're sort of the Amazonian equivalent to the North American fisher. A relative of the weasels and martens, but chunkier and larger. They don't usually attack people, unless you corner them or surprise them at close range. I doubt that's what set off our alarm bells."

"It's not," she replied. "This tayra thing is looking down at something close to its tree that I think is larger and more threatening."

She had barely spoken when a low growl rattled from the ferns and leafy jungle. It reminded her of someone rolling stones in a gourd.

"Aha," spoke the hunter. "Now, I do know that sound, and have even tried to imitate it to draw one in to my rifle. That, Marguerite, is a jaguar, _El Tigre_ to the locals."

"I know what they call it in Spanish and in Portuguese, but why? That name literally means The Tiger. Surely they could have seen that it has spots and is like a bigger, chunkier leopard, not striped like a tiger? "Marguerite was trying to think of such issues to let her collect her wits while thinking of the damage these big cats could do to a person if one attacked.

"I'm dashed if I know," answered Roxton. "For that matter, the early Dutch in South Africa called the leopard _tijge_r. You'd think that both the Iberian nationals and the Dutch could tell the difference between those cats and a true tiger. Still, the early settlers weren't sophisticated zoologists. Even in North America, they came up with some odd names for animals, and the cat we call the cougar or puma has a host of other names, like 'mountain lion' and 'catamount.' Look here, Marguerite: cover us while I stand up. I think I want to be on my feet if that thing charges." And he stood as his mate covered them, pulling himself up on reed stalks in their blind.

Now erect, he kept his .318 at the ready as he shouted, "Come here or go away, you spotted devil! You've bloody well ruined our hunt. I don't go around spoiling your hunts."

"John, I highly doubt that this cat can speak English and never mind trying Portuguese or any of the_ Indio_ dialects. What if he doesn't leave? I'm afraid to finish lunch, let alone wait for a deer. Are we going in there after him? Won't that provoke a charge? If one does charge, they're fast and determined. Remember that black one that we shot just after you and the others rescued Finn and me from Avery Burton? It raised Cain and damned nearly raised Abel with me and those Zanga spearmen before I killed it. Well, you helped at the last. But I really don't want to have to repeat that scenario. It scared me out of about two years of my life, I daresay!" (For that account, see,_ A Night in the Lost World_, by TLW Scribes.)

Roxton thought quickly, and then said, "Marguerite, throw some rocks in there and see if it provokes a charge. If not, that may see the animal off."

The brunette Briton looked at her man incredulously. Then, she shrugged and looked for suitable rocks. Another rumbling growl from the jungle hurried her on her way.

"Can this wretched day possibly get any better?" she muttered, to Roxton's amusement.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Challenger and Finn made tea and talked as they drank it and ate sardines, crackers, and some fruit bought at the Zanga village. Finn noticed some recent cat tracks near where they sat and studied them. "I think those were left by a jaguarundi," she mused. "Johnny and Vee showed me some like that last month, and there aren't a lot of other cats that size. A puma or a jaguar would be bigger, and this is definitely a cat. See? No claws visible, like there'd be with a dinosaur or a dog-like creature."

"Canids aren't common here, anyway," agreed Challenger. "No wolves, or dholes or African hunting dogs, or those Australian equivalents, the dingo. We have coyotes, but that's it, apart from domestic dogs, with some tribes. Hmmm… Darling, if they had no wolves, from which species are their dogs descended? Most curious, although some dogs here do resemble coyotes. I say, is there more tea in the kettle? I need a refill."

She checked the tea billy and poured for him. "We do have ocelots and margays and oncillas, but I think that's a jaguarundi," she repeated. "Damn, I'd like to see one in the wild. I've only seen skins in Jacoba's hut and a few others. They're really secretive. Maybe I could set out some meat as bait sometime and hope that one comes in to take it if I sound like a wounded rabbit."

Challenger took the proffered cup and observed that some other predator was as likely or more so to respond to the rabbit call. "You might go out hoping to kill a jaguarundi and have a raptor or a big cat show up, or any other meat eater."

"True, but I want to try, Genius," she responded. "I'm going to slice some biltong. Want some?"

He did, and she drew her hunting knife and cut several pieces of the dried, seasoned meat for each of them. "Hey, Genius? I bet that I'm having more fun than most housewives this afternoon, even just seeing those tracks instead of being able to shoot the cat. It beats sitting at home in a civilized house and talking to the neighbor broad about wallpaper colors, or something like that."

Challenger laughed outright. "For you, this is indeed better. But most women would be terrified to be here and would far prefer being at home, washing the dishes or playing with their children."

Finn looked thoughtful as she wiped the blade of her knife. "I'll get you children, Genius. We're working on that, and it's fun. No special rush and you seem to enjoy placing your order for a kid. You really got me revved last night and I was so turned on that I almost screamed. Want to do me that way again tonight? I could go for it. You make me feel so alive, so utterly female and so yours when you take me like that when I'm really in the mood, anyway. When you play with my controls, you sometimes hit everything just right and I want to pull you right into me and make us one together, with me like a bitch in heat who can't control herself. That's almost scary, to lose control that much, but I crave it. I am so totally your bimbo, Lover. I can't wait to marry you and have everyone know that I'm officially the woman of the greatest scientist of my time. You're pretty cocky sometimes, and a girl usually likes that, if the guy's ego doesn't go way out of control. But you really are as good as you think, at most things, anyway. And doing me is one of the things that you're really good at." Finn blushed scarlet and looked shyly at her man.

"You do look good in those wedding rings and nothing else," he admitted. For the Treehouse women had decided to wear their rings, weddings or no weddings as yet. Who knew how long it might be, if ever, before they escaped this remote Plateau and found a church with a minister to marry them? And Finn often wore just those rings in bed, or a slim gold ankle bracelet. If anything at all…

"I'll be finished with this snack in a moment," observed Challenger. "We're a bit ahead of schedule and the sun stays out late at this time of year. If you're desperately in heat, I can have you undress and bend over that fallen tree trunk while I see if I can amuse you for awhile. The only problem is, you grew so aroused last night that you were almost pink with the flush that was on you when you neared climax. I quite wondered if you had gotten serious sunburn. As soon as your clothes are off, I'm giving you a good looking over, to be sure that it's just arousal if you do that again." His eyes twinkled and Finn blushed even more.

"Of course, if you'd rather get home earlier, we needn't dally for sex. I realize that you must want to get back to Veronica and Marguerite and share your gossip from the village and show them the things that we traded for today." Challenger enjoyed teasing his girl, and she knew it, and mostly loved it. He was fairly sure of her answer. And the big Briton wasn't disappointed when Finn answered as she did.

"Finish eating and let's clean up and step off the trail and let you do me, Lover. That gossip can wait. Of course, if you thrill me like I think you will, I'll have even more to tell the other girls. They'll be so jealous!"

She saw his face flush as he looked carefully to see if she was teasing back or if she might actually share tales of their lovemaking. "Surely you jest, Darling? I shouldn't be able to face the other ladies or the men if they knew what we get up to at such times. Do you ladies really talk about such matters? Men often wonder, you know."

Finn stood on tiptoe and kissed him. "No, I don't tell all," she said. "If Vee and Marguerite knew what a stud you are and how I melt in your arms, I'd be as embarrassed as you would. But I love thinking about us doing things like that. How long do we have? I can put down some blankets on that softer ground to the left if you want me kneeling or on my back. I need to wash tomorrow, anyway, and that grass looks pretty clean. The blankets won't get stained or anything. They're not any that we use in bed, either. "

Challenger checked his watch and glanced at the position of the sun in the sky. "If we walk reasonably quickly and if the travois doesn't have to be dragged on any detours, we can be home at an acceptable time if we dally here for 45 minutes to an hour," he decided.

"Let's make it an hour," said Finn. "And don't take forever finishing that tea and meat. I feel myself already beginning to lubricate. Just don't let it go to your head too much, big guy." She grinned, but managed to look both shy and exceedingly desirable, thought George.

"No worries, Finn," he told her. "When you look at me that way, I find myself unable to concentrate on anything else. There's something about you that appeals to me even more than my next discovery in the lab."

"Well," said Finn, pulling off her shirt, "I guess that expresses the enormity of my hotness like nothing else could. Wow! I distract George Challenger from his lab projects."

"Don't be impudent, young lady," he rejoined. "It isn't every beautiful girl who has that effect on me, to that degree."

Finn dropped her shirt onto the travois to keep it off the ground and unbuckled her gun belt. "Thanks, George," she said. "That makes me feel really good. It means a lot to me to be able to please you. It's a serious responsibility to be the babe of a man as important as you are. Now, rinse out that cup and come over here and send me into orbit again like you did last night. At least one girl should be able to feel things like that from a man, and I'm her, because I'm yours."

A few minutes later, she laid in his arms breathing heavily, his hands roaming her body productively. "I wonder what the others are doing now?" he wondered.

"Who cares?" she murmured, wrapping her bare legs around his waist. "It can't be as fun as this, even if Ned is making ice cream. But if he is, that'd be really nice."

Actually, Ned had found something to do which appealed to him as much as what Finn was enjoying, and no ice cream was involved.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

At the Treehouse, Ned and Veronica cleaned fish until they were nearly done, filleting most of their catch before washing it and storing it in the electric refrigerator that Challenger had devised the previous year. Veronica then left Ned to finish while she went to their room to clean up and decide what to wear while he chased her. She was excited at the prospect and looking forward to being caught

She decided to forego the little ocelot hide loincloth that she had been forced to wear in Xochilenque while a prisoner of the imperious Emperor Cuauhtémoc XIV. Ned liked it and was frequently after her to model it when they were alone, but she wasn't in the mood for it just now and it carried memories with it, making her feel deliciously exposed and vulnerable. No doubt, that was what her captors had had in mind when ordering her stripped and given a limited selection of such brief garments before she and Marguerite had been led to the stadium where John Roxton had been made to fight a Zanga rebel with obsidian-edged war clubs that served the Tecamaya as swords were used by Europeans. (See, _The Crystal Skull of Xochilenque_ for that account.)

She decided on a pair of brief black panties with more lace trim than most that she had, Marguerite having spent more time in decorating them after Veronica had asked for something special. Finn had been so taken with them that she had begged Marguerite for an identical pair. The brunette among them had pretended to feel put upon and exploited, but had actually been rather flattered at the way the other girls admired her hand sewn lace trim and floral appliqués. Despite Marguerite's teasing the others for being blonde, all three women got along well and were probably closer than most real sisters. And Marguerite loved the way that the blondes complimented her handiwork.

Finn later told Marguerite that her new panties had impressed Challenger and had thanked her again for making them. Marguerite had pretended to be embarrassed and had said that this was "too much information."

Finn had looked at her frankly and said, "No, it's not, Marguerite. You deserve to know how much George liked those and how he likes me in them. Anything that pleases the Genius that much deserves a compliment. He's one of the greatest men of our time and he's my man. He deserves the best, including whatever cheesy thrills I can give him by displaying myself in nice lingerie. And it makes me feel terrific when I wear them, too. When we get to London, I'm going to find some shop to make up things like that for me. But I truly appreciate the way that you girls sew and decorate them here, where they're slower to make. Vee, that compliment includes you, too. You do most of the basic laying out of patterns and most sewing, after all. That sewing machine was your mom's."

Marguerite was appreciative of the compliments and reminded Vee that she liked ice cream and that if she wanted another pair like that, imploring Ned to make that dessert more often would be a nice way of repaying her for her efforts in decorating lingerie.

Finn had enthusiastically agreed, ice cream being one of her own favorite things in life.

Veronica recalled that conversation now, slipping off her normal clothes and donning the elegant panties after brushing her hair and adding a few splashes of the citrus-based cologne that Challenger made for the blondes. (Marguerite preferred a lavender scent, which he made for her.)

She added sandals, the women's normal footwear in the Treehouse, and checked herself in the long mirror on the back of the door to their room. What she saw was an impressive sight; she decided, and felt very good about the way she looked. Maybe this will help to keep Ned from fantasizing about that damned Gladys or Princess Phoebe of the Amazons, she smirked. Of course, Phoebe was virtually a twin of her best friend, Finn. But so far, Malone had not shown any romantic interest in Finn, who they had learned was in fact very probably his great, great, granddaughter And Finn was so thoroughly devoted to Challenger that Veronica had decided that she was no threat to her own union with Ned Malone. If Finny had designs on any other man in the Treehouse, it would be with Lord Roxton, her close pal and frequent hunting partner. So, Veronica felt secure with both her man and with her friends. And she was pretty sure that Roxton and his raven-haired wench were so tight with one another that all three couples were matched without emotional danger from their trusted friends. That filled her heart with a separate joy, in addition to the love that she felt for Ned. Life was good for her, and Ned had made it far better than she had grown to expect before realizing how much he meant to her.

She saw herself blushing in the mirror and was embarrassed, but knew that if she did that for Ned, it was a stimulant to his male appreciation of her. There was something about her seeming shy and feminine that aroused men. She remained very competent in the jungle, but now tried to let Ned take the lead in many activities, looking adoringly at him to build his confidence and create the relationship that she knew they needed for a normal marriage. This bothered her not al all, for Veronica Layton had discovered the joys of being a woman and was glad of it. And Ned gave her much more freedom than many men of that time accorded their women. Veronica needed that, for hers was a free spirit.

XXX

Ned sensed her arrival by the wafting scent of the cologne before she appeared on the stairs. He turned and smiled, and then smiled even wider as he registered how she was dressed. She had added the thin gold headband from her captivity in Xochilenque, with tall feathers of green, blue, and yellow displayed in the recesses for them in that mini crown. Veronica was breathtaking and Ned stood transfixed, staring as if he was beholding a goddess.

"Do I look all right, Ned?" she asked coyly, having a pretty accurate idea of how she appeared to him. Still, it was nice to hear a man say what he thought. Her vanity and self confidence craved that, in addition to whatever other ways he might express his love and his desire for her.

"You look fantastic, baby," he managed. "Oh, Veronica! I think I may like that look even better than if you'd worn that ocelot loincloth and that is saying something! You know how I cherish seeing you in that. Well, it's getting later in the afternoon, and our friends will be home in a few hours. Shall we get underway? How are you going to run? No fair hiding. We don't have time."

"I agree, Mr. Malone," she replied and brought her left hand from behind her back. It held a white handkerchief, which she waved. "I surrender, Ned. I decided that I'm through running from you. It's too much fun being caught, and we really are short of time. So, what next, Studly? I'm ready for whatever you decide."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Marguerite summoned all of her throwing strength and sailed a rock toward the place from where the jaguar had last growled. The missile must have landed close, for she immediately got a rumbling snarl in response.

"I don't think you actually hit him, Marguerite," Roxton said softly. "Try again, maybe three rocks in close sequence. It might irritate him enough to provoke a charge."

"A charge? Of course, why didn't I think how desirable that would be?" The sarcastic beauty was unenthused at causing a big cat that might weigh 400 pounds and whose jaws had shearing power beyond what a lion's did to come for her with rage in its heart. She trusted Roxton's courage and his marksmanship, but a cat comes fast and is a difficult target. And if not hit right, it inflicts tremendous damage on its victim, within seconds. In that day, wounds usually turned septic if the victim lived beyond the immediate attack, and even in the 21st Century, a mauling by a big cat is a very serious medical emergency. Only modern antibiotics and added surgical knowledge and the likelihood of retrieval by aircraft save those who endure such a horror. And they are mangled, marked for life if they do not succumb to the violence of the attack. (A woman, especially, thinks of the cosmetic damage!) A single bite from a lion, tiger, or jaguar into a person's thorax may kill! What the devilish claws do is in addition to the damage done by the fierce jaws and is better not thought about by the faint of heart.

Marguerite had faced another jaguar, a black one, a known killer. She recalled what it had done to the Zanga spearmen accompanying her and how relieved she had been that she and a newly arrived Roxton had been able to kill it in the nick of time. (See the communal fic,_ A Night in the Lost World_, by TLW Scribes.) She had no wish to see another of these big felines hurtling toward her or her lover. But John nodded when she looked to him to be sure that he was serious about hurling more rocks. He was.

Screwing up her courage, she heaved another two rocks in quick succession. She heard another snarl; and then cast the third stone of Roxton's instructions. Silence... Was the cat coming on soft feet, about to break out of the jungle, already leaping for her face?!

XXX

Marguerite stooped and grabbed her rifle off of the tree trunk where it had been leaning. "If you want any more rocks thrown, you can do it yourself, Roxton," she hissed. "I am scared out of my ever-loving skin! What if that bastard is almost upon us? I'm more afraid now than when we could hear him!"

He nodded and held a finger to his lips to shush her. He was clearly straining to hear any faint sound of damp leaves being crushed by a big spotted paw, or to hear the intake of breath that might signal that the jaguar was preparing to pounce.

Marguerite looked to her front, to their left, her man covering the center and the right lanes of their view. Roxton was holding the .318 rifle balanced for quick mounting, his senses clearly at maximum alertness. The jungle was largely silent, adding to Marguerite's unease.

She glanced at their lunch, praying that no ants discovered it before they could finish eating. She held the .303 carefully, liking the way it balanced. But it was growing heavy in her hands. What if the _tigre_ got her or Roxton down and the other couldn't shoot without fear of striking their beloved? She remembered the Bowie knife with six-inch blade and silver enhanced dinosaur bone handle that Roxton had carefully made and presented to her the previous month. She had only recently begun wearing it, and now she might have to use it. She tried to recall what Roxton and Challenger had told her and Finn about where to stab various animals that might attack them. She had been more intent on a tray of cookies and a delicious rum fruit punch. She had been amused to see the intent look that Finn wore, even drawing her knife and making practice thrusts, holding the knife in different ways until Roxton and Veronica were satisfied that she understood how to deliver various strokes into a beast.

Could she cut the jaguar's throat in time to save John? Where was she supposed to try to stab the animal if it got her down first? She prayed that John would not shoot the cat and have the bullet pass into her. But he was so ravaged by guilt from an over penetrating bullet having killed his brother in Africa years before that he might not risk a shot when he should!

She thought that she heard a very faint sound of leaves rustling in the ferns and trees to their right, going away from them. She glanced at Roxton and he was looking that way, trying desperately to hear what he could.

Suddenly she heard an alarm cry from a troop of golden capuchin monkeys and they began a jabbering blather to insult the spotted killer and to warn others of its presence. This came from some 200 yards away and gradually receded.

Roxton sighed audibly and lowered his rifle. "I think the cat is leaving, Marguerite," he said softly. "I'm going to sit down and finish lunch. But keep your eyes and ears open and don't talk much. It may be circling around to our backs. But I think it's heading northeast of us."

She nodded and whispered back, "But John, if it goes that way, it may ambush the Malones. We can't just sit here and let it get them!"

He shrugged. "We can't track it in that foliage. It'd hear us and ambush us. Ned and Veronica may be done with fishing and on their way home by now. We don't know where they are. We'll just have to wish them luck. Pass me that pickle, will you?"

She stared at him in disbelief, and then accepted what he'd said. She passed the dill pickle, then licked her fingers and laid the rifle over her lap before reaching for another sandwich. It was turkey, and she did like the way it tasted, with country style Dijon style mustard on it. She hoped fervently that Ned and Veronica had already passed the point where they might encounter the _tigre_ and that George and Finn were still safely within Jacoba's main village.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Challengers completed their romp in what passed for a bed in the forest and a nude Finn stretched, grinning broadly. "That hit the spot, Genius!" She felt pink all over and knew that her arousal had been evident. When he had entered her, she had groaned, holding him tightly as he thrust, not needing to go slow at first as her excitement built.

He had quipped that she had indeed begun to lubricate as she'd said, and Finn joked that she had certainly been in that condition. "But I'm no wetter than the headwaters of the Amazon," she related to his amusement. "Do me every way that you can think of, Lover. I am so hot for you. I've been daydreaming of this since we left the village. It must be the time of the moon or just because I'm almost due for my period. You told me that girls get hotter some times of the month, when we're most likely to conceive. Maybe you'll knock me up this month. I would kind of like to be the first mother in the Treehouse."

They had then spoken of little else, their bodies speaking the volumes that remained unsaid. All had gone well until a large bird had started to land in a tree above them, saw the humans copulating below, and left with a great screech that could not fail to inform any animal within earshot that they had been seen.

Finn had laughed. "I'm not going to try to match that, George. I'm not usually a screamer, anyway, but keep doing what you are and I'll love you until the end of days."

He had chuckled and reminded her that they were already committed to one another for all of their days and she'd purred, playing with his hair and kissing him intimately.

Now, they finished dressing, armed themselves, and prepared the travois for dragging home. Challenger left his jacket on the travois, the day being warm. They strapped the blankets in place, having shaken them to rid them of leaves and dirt acquired while they served as bedding. Then, the couple kissed for a moment as they caressed one another gently, and he kissed Finn's eyes and told her that she must be the most delightful girl in the galaxy and she stood closer and hugged him as she looked at him with eyes aglow.

"I still have trouble realizing that we're together and here and that New Amazonia is in my past," she confessed. "I keep thinking I'm dreaming and that I'll wake up and Burke and his creeps will be after me again."

"Burke and his primary crony are dead," Challenger reminded her. "I saw you cleaning blood off of that crossbow bolt that you shot him with. I shivered a little. But I know that what you did was warranted."

He slipped a hand under the edge of her brief black shorts and pinched her bottom lightly. "There, young lady! I've pinched you and you didn't wake up and it's not a dream. It's just wonderful reality that we are here and have one another. Well, we'd better be getting back. The sun will be chasing the horizon by the time we get home. But thank you for a very pleasurable dalliance."

Finn kissed him and handed him his hat. "Lead on, then, Genius. I told you that I'd follow you anywhere, and home is a better destination than most."

Challenger chuckled, squeezed her to him and then they each grabbed a handle of the travois and began heaving forward, hoping that a cry in the distance from a large theropod dinosaur had nothing to do with their journey.

The big scientist looked across at his girl and said," I do so love you, Finn. I'm glad that you aren't dreaming about being here."

She blushed and replied," Keep saying things like that, Lover, and I'll bake you a really good blackberry pie tomorrow." She knew his fondness for those…

And they began their trek to the Treehouse, quickening their pace as shadows began to fall. The dinosaur roared again, and they hoped that it was looking for a mate or roaring in a threat display to warn a rival from its territory and wasn't hunting.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ned searched Veronica's face and then stepped over to her and held her head in his hands and kissed her gently. "Okay, Jungle Princess. It'd just waste energy chasing you, anyway. Want to go upstairs or use the couch? Most of what I have in mind involves lying down." He tried to avoid blushing as she turned crimson, for Veronica was still easily embarrassed and thrilled at such bold statements.

"Take me upstairs to our room, Neddy. It means more to me to be there, and the bed is bigger than the couch and more comfortable. And I think I know most of what you have in mind, and that bed is softer and wider. And when we finish, I want to lie with you and hold you for awhile before we have to run for the shower and dress."

He nodded, took her hand, and led his woman to their lair. Once there, he undressed, looking at her standing shyly before him, his eyes alive with pleasure as he studied her form in the bikini panties. He noticed the details and said that she should compliment herself and Marguerite for the tasteful lace trim and basic style. Ned tried to notice things about Veronica and what she wore, having had girls complain about men not paying attention to such matters. He told her that he loved the gold earrings, in the loop or ring style favored by Finn. They made her irresistible, he said, but had better come off if she wanted her ear lobes nibbled, and she did. Ned had learned that Veronica was quite responsive to having her ears and hair played with and the area below her left ear tongued with skill. His lips did wonders for arousing goose bumps on her body and she moved impulsively now as they lay in bed and he began his ministrations to her. He slipped off the panties, tossing them on the nightstand.

She offered to kneel before him and take him orally, but less than a minute of that made it plain that if she persisted, so aroused was he that he would not last to enter her. So, to bed… Ned was disappointed, for Veronica had become quite talented with her mouth in that role. When he was less on the verge of ejaculation, he encouraged her attentions, and she took pride now in stimulating him in that way.

She lay on her back, legs spread, her smooth-shaven pubes lifted as he penetrated her and pulled her hair aside to whisper sweet somethings into the ear that he nuzzled as his hands roamed her sides and legs as he lay atop her. She felt smooth to his touch, and the warmth coming off her loins felt like the heat from another sun.

Soon, she was kneeling, on all fours, her arms straight as Ned probed within her. Then, she lowered her forequarters deeply, cheek to the mattress, her bottom high as he took joy from her, playing now with her buttocks and lower back, another area that he had discovered was highly responsive to sensual touching. Ned knew that in this position, he could reach her most sensitive vaginal recesses, including the patch of nerves that Finn said would someday become known as the G - spot. Veronica had come to crave the sensations that his thrusting penis generated there. And the thought of her kneeling that way also stimulated her. It was so erotic and so basically like what wild animals might do at a less refined level that she liked it and took sensual delight in knowing how she must look to Ned. In that day, this was a position deemed "naughty" and that added to its appeal for the couple. The more jaded Roxtons were less excited by the cultural inferences, although they certainly appreciated the visual and physical aspects of the posture. Marguerite had become quite accustomed to being taken in that manner during the days that she'd spent in a harem, and was not surprised to find that it was a position much favored by the very experienced Lord Roxton. However, she was resolved to do it better than any of his previous lovers had managed. And Veronica in turn was motivated to please Ned better than she thought that her smug brunette "sister" managed to slake Roxton's lusts. She tried hard to impress Ned with her growing skills and felt more womanly and sensual for that.

She was barely behind Ned in climaxing, for both had been quite aroused. When it was apparent that he done all that he could for the moment, he withdrew and the couple lay on their backs, holding hands as they talked and caressed one another. They breathed heavily from their recent exertion.

Soon, Veronica lifted Ned's' wrist and checked the time on his watch. " I bet you can't be hard enough to be back in me in under 20 minutes," she teased.

"I'll find some way to pass the time, and I may surprise you, baby," he replied." You inspire me as no woman since Aphrodite has inspired a man. I may manage a Herculean effort on your behalf."

He stifled her delighted laugh by placing his mouth on hers and teaching her how kissing can be such a pleasurable way to pass time. Then, his fingers found their way into her and he toyed with the clitoris and beyond as she shook with pleasure, knowing new joys in his skillful manipulation of her female controls.

"You seem to like this, baby," he noted. "I may not be as skilled as Roxton, but I try. I just haven't had as much practice yet as he has, but you're going to be as good a testing ground as however many girls he's known were, and I really love you. I think that for John it was usually a matter of physical release and the heady feeling of conquering women. And Challenger is probably still learning a lot from Finny. He'd hardly had his head out of the lab or a science book for years until she took an interest in him. But I grant you, he's a big man. She won't find him lacking there."

"I don't think she finds him lacking at all, Ned," she managed, panting as he tickled her innermost sensitivities. "But I don't compare you. You're who and what I want, so quit worrying. Just take me and enjoy it. You always appealed to me more than you knew. I was just afraid to commit because I was sure that you and the others would leave the Plateau and abandon me here with a broken heart."

Ned looked into her eyes and kissed them, then her lips. "I'm not going to abandon you anywhere, princess. You've become a vital part of me. And I look after all of my parts."

She giggled. "Ned, honestly…Some of your jokes….Speaking of your parts, how are you doing?" And she probed him with a practiced hand and felt him stir. She lifted the wrist with the watch and saw that just 17 minutes had passed. "Pretty good, Studly. Another minute or so and you'll be all set to 'do' me again, as our friend from the future so charmingly puts it. You managed to produce a funny and irreverent descendent in her, Ned. Doesn't she appeal to you, as a girl, I mean? She's awfully sexy, especially when she wants attention. She can walk in those little black shorts in a way that I'm surprised doesn't have all three of you men here fighting over her. She even makes me aware of how hot she is. Marguerite at least wears more and is so reserved that she seems less a threat."

"Finn is definitely not a threat to you or to us, Veronica. She's actually a little too forward for me, sometimes, and we're related, however far down the road. I look, sure, and so do the other men. We look with pleasure at you, too, and at Marguerite. But other than having a basic biological compulsion to stare at all of you girls, I don't compare you. You said that about me, and it meant a lot to me. I think all three couples here are with just the right partners. I wanted a compassionate, beautiful, loving Venus, and that's you. Roxton wanted a cool, droll, sophisticated woman who resisted his famous reputation and title and who is probably as talented a lover as any courtesan in history, who finally yielded to him. I think he was infatuated with pursuing the unconquerable girl with ulterior motives and winning her. I guess George needed a cute young blonde who wanted to be taught and brought up better than she had been and who worships him and makes him feel important and who looks after him like a slave girl in love with her master would. She thinks he hung the moon and set her on it, and he likes thinking that he's just about powerful enough a scientist to do that. And I bet that she makes him feel 20 years younger. And she needed a daddy figure and someone to nurture her and show her how to live in what to her is an old fashioned time. And Finn darned sure needed a shrink to get her past how she grew up in New Amazonia and to convince her that life from now on is going to be heavenly, compared to what she knew. By the way, your friendship has meant the world to her. She told me that again last week. But time is passing and I didn't take you to bed to talk about our friends."

She smiled coyly. "Why did you take me to bed, Mr. Malone? I'm such an innocent girl that you'll have to show me."

And he did. She rode him cowgirl style until on the verge of a second orgasm, and then he rolled her on her back, where she wanted to be finished off for this session. That suited Ned fine too, as he felt more in charge and like a virile male this way, and he loved looking into her eyes as he thrust into her, seeing her face grow pink as she gasped and called his name in the throes of ecstasy. He enjoyed holding her hands down, Veronica also liking the feeling that he was taking her as his, surprised that she enjoyed the feeling of surrender and of being claimed by a man.

Finally, Veronica wrapped her legs around his waist and bucked in passion until she was spent; making mewing noises that thrilled Ned and made him feel as tall as Challenger. But less boring than the big scientist could be, he hoped, and laughed.

"What's funny?" she demanded. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, baby," he assured her. "You almost never do anything wrong. I'm just so happy about how you're doing everything right and how I wish we'd started doing this sooner after we met. We'll just have to do it more often, to make up for lost time."

She laughed then, too, and pulled him to her as her loins rocked in raw heat and she called his name as if imploring him to save her from an approaching crocodile.

They lay together then, each clinging to the other as though they would merge, had that been possible. But Ned was glad that they'd remain separate, for he loved the uniqueness of her and besides, he wanted to stand back and admire her feminine curves as well as feel her smooth flesh and caress her tender zones as she purred and clung to him.

Finally he looked again at his rectangular Hamilton watch and said, "I guess we'd better head for the shower. One or another of the other couples will be home soon."

"Don't look so sad, Ned," she replied. "You can still feel me up while you soap me down and rinse me off. I don't know which of us will enjoy that more, but I'm looking forward to it."

"I'll enjoy it more," he thought. "After all, I'll be looking at you, the earthly appearance of Venus, or maybe Helen of Troy… the ultimate women of all time... until you were born!"

She laughed in joy, but said, "Well, don't tell Marguerite. She probably thinks that she's the ultimate woman of all time. At least, Finny and I have taught her to cook some simple things. But she is a superb dancer and she's taught us to thrill you guys that way. I feel so sensual when we do that. "

Then they were in the shower, the reservoir filled with water just warm enough from the sun to be comfortable and just cool enough to refresh them after their bedtime escapades

Ned stared at Veronica and then held her, speaking her name softly as his hands ran along her taut body and she sighed and said, "Oh, Ned! I love you so very much!"

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Roxton and his lady gathered and packed the remains of their repast and hid the basket before creeping into their blind in the reeds. They held an intense discussion as to whether they might fare better in some other location. The nobleman thought not, as it was getting on toward time for animals to begin moving in the late afternoon and it would take added time to trek to another location where they would be concealed along a game trail. Moreover, the jaguar was probably now long gone and was actually more likely to be scented and cause alarm among deer, agouti or peccary in some other location to which they might go.

"I'll just pull the reeds and cattails together here carefully again, with our firing ports relieved enough for us to shoot through the foliage. I can make it look natural, and there's really no reason for a passing animal to suspect anything because of what happened here earlier." He patted Marguerite's arm reassuringly and she smiled doubtfully at him.

"If that's what you think is best," she replied. "I want to get something killed and to get out of here before the mosquitoes come around this evening. It's a wonder that none of us has come down with malaria, or some other dreadful disease. Thank God that American Army doctor discovered a cure for yellow fever. What was his name?"

"Walter Reed. But it isn't that that causes me to get feverish when I'm alone with you, Marguerite. It's something quite else."

'"What?" she wondered. "Something that you ate?" She grinned wickedly at him as the sun began to sink, the first faint hues of the coming sunset beginning to trace their way across the sky. Animals that had fallen silent when the monkeys had raised the alarm earlier were making their usual jungle clamor; and they heard a big theropod dinosaur. Its call silenced the others, but for only a few moments, then the other animals resumed the background noise.

"I don't like the sound of that big carnosaur," Roxton worried aloud. "It's more or less on the route that George and Finn will be using by now. I hope they've already passed the point where it is."

Marguerite sneaked a glance toward her watch, trying not to turn her head more than needed, lest a deer be near and examining the jungle for any movement that might betray a predator. "It's nearly five o'clock," she whispered. "George and Finny should be almost home by now. I can't think why they'd be running late. They don't really like to linger in the Zanga village."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Challengers trekked homeward, happy until Finn looked at George with a shocked expression on her face. "Oh hell, Genius! I forgot all about it while I was in heat earlier, but Assai and Sa'eera said there's a man-eating jaguar loose. It's killed some hunters and some goats and ate part of one guy. I so totally need to tell Johnny. He'll probably want to go after it. I meant to tell you and we got sidetracked. But that cat could be on this trail right now. It's a danged good thing that it didn't find us while we were having sex! We generally have more sense than to stop in the jungle and fool around, but I was seriously hot to trot and I forgot. Forgive me?"

Challenger shifted uncomfortably. "If you'll forgive me, Darling. The fact is, Xma'Klee and some warriors also told me about that cat. And I didn't think to mention it to you, either. I was thinking about the herbs that we got and how I can use them in the formula for the new drug. But I really wish that you wouldn't go after it. It's too dangerous."

She studied him carefully. "I wasn't even going to ask, Lover. I figured that you'd forbid me to go and if I complained, we'd have an argument like really big-time, and I decided that it's not worth that. I have to adjust my thinking now that I belong to you and we're thinking of getting me pregnant. Once that happens, I can't keep going off and hunting big game for thrills. As a mother, I'll have too much responsibility. And it isn't worth it to get into a big argument with you over taking chances and then we go to bed mad and sulk for a few days and I feel totally guilty because I know that in this time, wives are expected not to talk back too much to their men. You still let me hunt food animals and I always have to be ready to kill if I have to. As a mother I'll have to help defend the Treehouse and protect our kids when they come. But unless we get out of here and hire a good nanny and some white hunters if we get to Africa, I know I'll have to limit how often I go after dangerous animals. But I thought that you'd want to join Johnny. Or, Ned. Probably you. You guys are best friends and Ned is cool now, but he isn't you. If you let me come, I will. I'll worry too much if I don't. But I'll stay home with Vee and Marguerite if you insist. I just don't think that Johnny should go alone, or with Vee. He needs another man with him, and you're the logical guy. Just be really careful. Okay?"

"Yes, Finn. I quite agree that John has no business going alone and I meant to talk to Marguerite about that. But on reflection, if she complains to him or implores him not to go, it'll seem that she's trying to control or manipulate him, and they'll be where you don't want us to be: sleeping back-to-back or with one partner in the den and sulking. But she is probably going to do that, anyway, with that result, unless she tries pleading with him from a womanly standpoint, asking him to be careful because she's terrified of losing him. Maybe that will sooth his male pride and chill his sense of adventure. But the devil of it is, we do need to be alert for that jaguar and try to get it if we can. It may stalk one of us as easily as it'd attack the Zanga people or other inhabitants here. Yes, I shall have to tell John and Ned and hope that Marguerite is wise in how she approaches the matter. Veronica won't like Ned going after it, and he may try, if only to prove his manhood. He's shorter than John and I and I think it troubles him. And he wants to seem masculine for Veronica. By the way, I daresay that Ned will tell her not to go, but Veronica, unlike you, isn't an adventure hunter. She kills for meat and if she's physically threatened at the moment, but doesn't usually go stalking animals for the thrill of the chase."

Finn seemed thoughtful. "And you really just forgot to tell me this stuff about the cat? You weren't hiding it to keep me from going after it?"

Challenger thought rapidly, trying to find an answer that would avoid the very argument that Finn had said they should evade. Women were often more emotional than logical, although Finn was more intelligent and logical than most. But she could react emotionally if he upset her. ..

"Ah, actually, Darling, I was struggling to decide how to approach the matter. If you were insistent, I was going to suggest that I accompany you and John. Would that have been a suitable common ground? "

"You dodged the doghouse, George. That's probably the best compromise. But I need to learn to obey you, so if you really don't want me to go, order me not to and make it stick. I'm probably going to test you sometimes, just to see my limits and because I'm female and girls do that. I guess we want to know that our men are strong enough to keep us in our places. I think Marguerite does that to John, although she basically knows that it's dumb and causes trouble with him. But women can't help it, sometimes. We're wired that way. Thanks for looking for a way to ease me down over this thing.

"Remember when you told me not to go look at what you men were building when you wanted to surprise me with that pedestal that you made for me? And how I almost snuck out one night to look under the tarpaulin after you were asleep? I got to feeling really guilty and was about to come back upstairs when Vee and then you caught me in the kitchen. I realized that disappointing you and disobeying you hurt me; that I had it so bad for you that I was willing to put your wishes above my curiosity. That was a first for me. I've always had to look out for myself, and mostly, I did what I liked unless it seriously hurt decent people who hadn't done me any harm.

"Anyway, I'll respect you more if you tell me up front if you're bothered by something and if you enforce your will, if you feel strongly enough. Hiding the news about the jaguar would just tick me off. And, yes, I'm trying to be ladylike and not use the word that I almost did instead of 'tick'. I'd be madder that you hid something from me than if you forbade me to do whatever upset you. You're an honest man, George. It's one of the reasons why I love you. I don't cut your hair and wash your clothes and butter your toast just because you're a big, handsome guy with muscles and probably one of the finest minds in all of history. I do it partly because you're always upfront with me. I'd rather you tell me off if I get too far out of line than deceive me. I can get over being mad and having a stinging butt for a couple of hours if you spank me, but if you make me wonder if I can trust you, we have a more serious problem. Am I making sense?" She looked imploringly at him.

Challenger stopped pulling his side of the travois and pulled Finn to his chest and leaned down and kissed her. "Yes, Finn, you make perfect sense and you made me glad that I was going to tell you. I just wanted to think how best to do it and be sure how far I was prepared to go if you defied me if I told you to stay home and let men handle the cat. I do care about your feelings, you know. I hoped that we could find some compromise. I don't want to be a dictator in our home unless I feel an issue demands that of me."

Finn glowed. "So, if you come, too, I can join Johnny and hunt it? I swear, I'll be good and do whatever you tell me. But we can both look after each other and Johnny is a really good hunter. We can watch his back and he can watch ours. Please, Lover? It may be my last big hunt before I get pregnant and really do have to stay home more."

Challenger thought fast. "I suppose that is the most viable arrangement, Finn. And if we two are with Roxton, maybe Marguerite will let him go without too much of a fuss. Yes, that should work out well all around. But I absolutely forbid you to be harmed. Don't you dare let that animal as much as scratch you. I mean that, young lady. It would wound my heart too deeply if I let you go and something bad happened. Agreed?"

Finn smiled shyly and said, "Yes, George. I'll try to shoot it before it does more than look hard at me. And George… you know that old saying about how familiarity breeds contempt? It doesn't work that way with you. The more I know you, the more I respect you. It's an honor to wear your rings. I said once that I'd rather be Mrs. Challenger than be a queen. I'm just sorry that I was such a smartmouth when we met. But I've matured a lot, I think. I'm going to be worthy of you yet." She looked soberly at him and Challenger felt both humble and about ten feet high.

"I'd say that you are doing very well in that goal, Finn. You were so reasonable about this matter that I think you deserve a visit to your pedestal when we get home. Which we had better do… The sun is getting lower than I like. We probably shouldn't have dallied as long as we did, but you managed to prove irresistible, yet again. I am a fortunate man to have you at my side. I say, that damned dinosaur is roaring again, and it's close. I think we'd better leave the travois under that big fern and get atop those rocks with our glasses and see if we can locate it. I don't half fancy thinking that we may blunder into it."

"No kidding, Genius." Finn looked apprehensive. She was bold for a woman, but also afraid when she had cause. "Lead on, big guy. I'm gonna be right behind you."

And she took her Mannlicher 6.5mm from the travois and passed Challenger his .450 Nitro Express double barreled rifle. That big theropod did sound entirely too close.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Roxtons were sitting quietly, Marguerite wondering how John managed to do this for so long at a time. She rapidly grew bored and marveled that Finn could stand this when she and John so often hunted together. She believed John more now when he said that he and Finn were only hunting and studying nature when they spent hours in the jungle.

Birds trilled, monkeys jabbered, the air was still and heavy with humidity, and the boredom oppressing.

Roxton was less bored, listening to and identifying each of the vocal animals. He registered the flight of a flock of hyacinth macaws overhead and saw a small lizard scurry by across the path they were watching. He hoped that Marguerite wasn't about to need to step away and use a secluded place in the jungle for a ladies' room. It was about time for game to move along this trail and their best chance to make a kill would probably be in the next two hours, before they had to admit defeat and leave before darkness fell and grim predators stirred. They couldn't see snakes in the night, either, and their friends would soon grow concerned about them.

Marguerite was on the verge of telling John just what he feared that she would say: that she needed the loo. Then, they heard a faint sound of leaves scrunching about eighty yards down the trail, in the direction to the Zanga village. The sable-haired beauty decided to try to stick it out for a few more minutes.

But if this isn't a deer or some other suitable game animal, I'm going to have to call an outing in this adventure, she resolved.

It was red brocket deer, a pair of them, and they shot the smaller, which still yielded a burden that would weigh some 70 pounds, meat to take back to the Treehouse. Roxton's shot hit the heart and the animal dropped on the spot, not always a sure thing with mortally wounded game. But it wasn't quite dead and the hunter debated whether to draw his knife and cut the throat or to fire a second shot. When Marguerite heard what he planned to do, she insisted on drawing her revolver and ending the poor creature's misery. She looked at John with big, accusing green eyes.

"Alright," he muttered. "I suppose that this was less messy and I have a heart, too. I wasn't looking forward to ending this with cold steel. But we did need the brains, to get tannin to tan hides. It isn't an urgent thing on this occasion. Look, go visit the loo and get back here to watch the deer while I go. Then, I'll open the animal and clean it properly. We need to get home. The sun isn't going to stay up there today forever."

Marguerite nodded and moved toward a dense clump of concealing vegetation when she heard John call out to her. She turned, irritated that he'd almost cut the dying animal's throat and frustrated by the long, boring wait. She primed a caustic remark, but he spoke before she could deliver her cutting quip.

"By the way, Miss Krux, you did well today. I know how boring you must have found the past hour or so to be. You hung in well, and I'm proud of you."

The weariness dropped from her and she smiled. "All in the interests of the hunt. When one needs groceries, one needs groceries. Thank you, John. I needed to hear that from you." And she turned and ran to complete her urgent errand.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Ned and Veronica finished showering and toweled one another off. "You feel somewhere between delightful and sublime, Veronica," declared Ned. "Help me with the wordage here. Which term better describes you?"

Veronica laughed. "Don't know which describes me better, but I think you just described yourself as a big flirt, Ned." But she blushed and seemed radiant. Ned thought it was quite possible that she was flattered. In fact, he was sure of it. He hoped that she was flattered enough to grant his next wish.

"How about not dressing for a while? You can wear your sandals. No need to risk getting a splinter in your feet, but as for the rest…"

"Why?" teased his lady. "Is it so dark in here that you need me bare and pale to see me?" But she was smiling.

"Sure," Ned flirted back. "And if I can't see you, I'll have to bump into you and feel you all over to be sure where you are."

She laughed. "I sense that you're about to do that, anyway. I'll stay nude if you will. But check your watch. What time is it? We want to be dressed by the time the others get back. And if either couple got any kills, you'll need to help them get the meat up here and cooling."

Ned looked at the watch and concluded that he could view her bare for about another hour, and then they had better dress.

"Just one problem," Veronica said. "I need to get into the kitchen and get a pie baking. If you join me, I can put that off for maybe a half hour. How's that for a compromise? You get your nudie viewing and everyone gets pie, too. By the way, will you make ice cream tomorrow after the milkman comes? We need to save what milk we have now for creaming our coffee. And the Limeys often use milk in their tea. We need to make more butter, too. We're getting low."

Ned knew that she wouldn't work nude in the kitchen. Too much chance of getting a burn and it was more hygienic to dress. As much as he loved staring at her, Ned didn't want any of her tender areas burned, and he did love pie, so he agreed.

"Yeah," he remembered. "Tomorrow is Thursday. We need to be up early and meet the milk people." They got milk weekly from nomadic tribesmen of Anglo origin who wandered much of the year, selling milk from cattle driven with them in small numbers. The main herds remained in their fortified village. Challenger arranged to clean and pasteurize the milk, and they made their own cheese and butter. Veronica's mother had left a book detailing how to do that, and after George had devised their electric refrigerator powered by the windmill and its generator, their lives had improved accordingly. But, Roxton had mused, it would be nice to get back to London and buy real Danish Havarti cheese or Muenster, or Swiss. Veronica had been intrigued. She had never seen those cheeses or tasted same, and all she really knew of Switzerland was Finn's little red-handled utility pocketknife, a Victorinox Camper model. She knew it very well; its saw blade having severed the ropes holding her in a cage beneath the sacred ball game stadium in Xochilenque. Had it not been for that rescue, she would now be spending much of her time in Cuauhtémoc's royal zoo and the rest in his harem…

She decided that if Swiss cheese was as good as that Swiss Army knife, it was worth trying, if she ever got off this Plateau with Ned as a guide.

But she could find most countries on the nice globe left by her father and she was far more educated than one would expect of a girl living in a primitive jungle since she was just 11 years old! She had, in fact, been a real help to Challenger in teaching Finn to read and about life in general in this century.

"Okay," agreed Ned. "I want to look at you and grope you and play with your hair and ears for half an hour, then you can have me help in the kitchen. I'm not as inept in there as Marguerite and we'll get supper started, too. But I can almost taste that pie. As much as I like fondling you, I can take time out to cook. "

"And it's really appreciated, too, Neddy," she praised. "I know too well from what other women say that not very many men do help in the kitchen. Roxton and Challenger say that it's undignified for them to do that. They can be so sexist… Ned, I do love you partly for your willingness to help me. But there are other qualities. You aren't shy about mentioning my chest and gawking at it, but you look pretty good, yourself, from a feminine perspective." She stood by him and ran her hand over his chest and along his strong arms. She admired him and kissed him and Ned felt altogether pretty good about the way this day had gone.

They sat and talked and fondled one another until Veronica raised Ned's arm, saw the time on the gold watch and jumped up saying that she'd better dress.

"Okay," agreed Malone. "I guess it had to happen. Into every life, some rain must fall."

"Ned!" laughed an amused jungle hostess. "You are just awful! Marguerite is right: men do have one-track minds! And you mostly aren't thinking about baking pies. Look, what do you want to see me wear? And I don't mean just panties or that Xochilenque loincloth. I mean, should I wear my reddish brown outfit again or do you want me in the later, fawn-colored one? I want the latter, if it won't make you cry because it hides my legs just a little better."

"But not too much better. Marguerite says that you and Finn are natural exhibitionists. I do give thanks daily for that quality in both of you. Yeah, the tan outfit is fine with me, too. You look totally ravishing in it and I sort of like the color better. Don't forget your beaded armband. You left it upstairs when you undressed. I like that armband. It's so 'you.' "

"Okay," she said briskly. "I'll wear one of the newer tan outfits, but one with regular shoulder straps. If I wear the halter top, I can't wear a bra and I've grown to like doing that. Don't look so crestfallen, Mr. Malone. That means that you get to see me remove the bra later tonight. You seem to enjoy that."

"Sure," Ned allowed. "That has its scenic aspects. Okay, let's dress." And he led her up to their room, where they donned clothing just before a racket from the chickens kept inside the fence below startled them and left Ned running for a rifle. Something was trying to get onto the grounds of the Treehouse!

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Challenger and his lass scrambled up into the foliage atop a rocky hill overlooking the trail home. Finn was careful of her bare legs and swore as she scuffed a knee on a hidden stone. Then, they were lying above the land, using their binoculars to seek the big carnosaur that had been roaring for much of their trek home. In fact, it let out a nerve-tingling howl just as they settled in and began "glassing" the terrain.

"There it is," said the big scientist, looking ahead some 800 yards and at their ten o'clock angle.

"Got it, Lover. It's one of those sort of humpbacked Acro-Something things we don't see very often." Finn steadied her binocular and studied the fearsome beast, which was looking to its front and some distance out.

"_Acrocanthosaurus_," answered her mate. "One of the largest carnivores of all time, somewhere between _Allosaurus_ and _Tyrannosaurus_. The high spinal vertebrae support muscle masses that may give it added pulling power as it seeks to rip meat from huge animals like the sauropods."

Finn laughed softly. "Yeah, Genius. What you said. Can we kill it if we have to? I don't want to become an afternoon snack for that thing!"

"I hope that we won't have to shoot it, Finn. We've studied the skulls of dead ones and from the side, one does see considerable open spaces in the bone, covered by skin and muscles in life. We can get bullets through the hide and flesh and maybe hit the brain by the eye sockets. We've discussed how to shoot an Allosaurus, if needed. But if it's attacking, that skull has much more bone mass and teeth at the front and the shape of the head will either block bullets or cause them to glance off of the sloping skull. Of course, even from the side, if we should be shooting to help our friends under attack, the animals are so tall; we would have to be on an elevation to get level shots at those things! And that height makes it simple for them to see us hiding in bushes that would easily conceal us from human enemies. They can simply look down on us, so we have to be covered from above as well as laterally."

Finn was troubled, as she might well be. "Genius, if it comes for us and our bullets won't get into its head right, what can we do? No way are we going to be able to outrun that bastard!"

Challenger shrugged. "Aim at the throat just beneath the head and pray that a bullet breaks the spinal cord. My rifle was designed to shoot elephants and rhinos and the like and the bullets may just get in that deep on a big dinosaur. Your Mannlicher-Schoenauer also has a reputation for deep penetration, for a rifle of caliber more suited for shooting deer. Perhaps you might try for the carotid arteries at the sides of the neck? That would be your best hope, I surmise. Truly, I think we'd better pray that it doesn't see us. Of course, it may track us by smell. When we've examined the skulls of these animals or the Tyrannosaurs, they have large nasal spaces in the skull that suggest a very high olfactory capability. Roxton says that bears in North America can smell food for a distance of many miles. And these big carnosaurs are the largest and most formidable predators to ever walk the earth. I suppose that a Short-Nosed Bear or an _Andrewsarchus_ might be equally deadly to humans and they'd run faster to get us. So would a Dire Wolf. At least these things lack the speed of the smaller raptors. And we haven't encountered those ancient mammals that I mentioned, which would be more intelligent. Mind you, a crocodile has a minuscule brain, but they're jolly crafty. These dinosaurs aren't as dumb as the public off of this Plateau supposes they'd be! If that thing comes looking for us, we shall have our work cut out for us to survive. If it comes for us, I'll run in plain sight and you can try to escape and tell our friends what happened."

"I'm not running, George. I'm with you and we're going to face this together. How far out should I begin to shoot at the neck?"

Challenger considered. "First, be sure that it has detected us and is advancing with intent. We're fairly well covered in these ferns. If it doesn't scent us, we may be safe. You have a good Hensoldt telescopic sight. I'd say to fire from prone as it approaches this slope, where we're at about its height. Fire at about 150 yards, if you can hold that well on the moving neck. Otherwise, as soon as you feel confident of your shot. My rifle doesn't shoot as flat as yours will, although it hits harder. I'll have my two shots, then maybe two more, if I reload quickly enough. Then, it'll be on us. Finn, I mean for you to run. We both will, going opposite directions. It can't pursue both of us. Don't argue, young lady. It would be insane for us to stay together and let both die. If you escape, I'll live on in your heart. And someone needs to tell the others how I died."

"You aren't going to die, Lover, if I can hit those arteries. Should I load softnose or full jacketed bullets, what you Limeys call 'solids?"

"Solids, I should think. I'm not at all sure that a softnose bullet will penetrate that tough hide and the flesh until it strikes an artery."

He heard her open the bolt to her rifle and she ejected the cartridges in the five-shot rotary magazine and carefully replaced them with full-jacketed rounds. She knew that some very skilled shooters had killed elephants with these in the same 6.5mm caliber. But a dinosaur…she wished for a rocket propelled grenade launcher, the deadly RPG of her own century. It'd be about right for dinosaurs. But it was decades in the future from when she now lived!

Suddenly, they heard another dinosaur call out, being answered by the first. What was this?!

Another big male of the same species now stalked forward, exchanging roars with the first. Neither looked toward the Challenger couple.

"Humph! " muttered George, watching through his Zeiss binocular as the huge theropods approached one another, snarling and stamping their feet. "This looks like some sort of dominance fight, as bull elk in the Rocky Mountains might have, over territory and females. The elk that win those contests get the territory and a harem of cow elk."

Finn laughed softly. "I should hope that their harems are of cow elk. I'd hate to be the human broad that got their business. Your endowment is the largest that I think I can stand, big guy!"

Challenger looked at her and shook his head, but smiled. Finn was so irreverent, and she often made jokes to hide her stress at dangerous moments.

"Let's hope they actually fight and that one doesn't just intimidate the other and make him leave. We need them involved as we escape."

"Uh, Genius? If these guys are fighting to get a harem or an individual mate, where are the girls? They probably watch these fights, to know who wins and gets to screw them, right? We'd better see them first, or we may get ambushed as we sneak past the boys."

"A good point, Darling, although it would be more ladylike if you avoid words like 'screw.' Do you see any female Acrocanthosaurs? We'll look carefully, then get the travois and get underway. "

"I'm looking, Lover. They're huge, so we should see them soon if any are there. Guess what? I see a jaguarundi, about 150 yards from us, going through that scrub brush about 11'o'clock from us. It's the gray phase, and it's really slinking along. What a thrill to see one! I am so tickled! Maybe it's the one whose tracks we saw. Look, though: those creeps are fighting now. Time for us to beat feet?"

"Yes, let's go while we can. Whichever of them loses, unless killed, will be in a bad mood and I shouldn't like to meet him. Stay low and slide back off this hill and we'll leave straightaway."

And so they did, hearing the giant reptiles roar and scream their anger and defiance as the combat progressed. The humans didn't stop until they were well away and within a mile of home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Roxton and his distaff companion cleaned the deer and took the choicest parts, placing the meat in cheesecloth type bags made on Veronica's loom. That kept the meat from encountering dirt and insects and was a major advantage. With just the two of them present and the limits of what they could drag home on this travois, they had to leave some meat, but got most, including all of the best cuts.

"The rest will feed whichever scavengers find it, "reflected the nobleman, glancing at the sky. So far, no pterodactyls or other avian scavengers had detected them under the trees, but they saw rustling in the bushes that might be coyotes or other scavenger/predator beasts. When they heard some animal growl, they finished packing the travois and departed.

They reached home without incident, although Roxton pointed out fresh jaguar tracks within 300 yards of the Treehouse. Those made them pay extra attention as they concluded their journey.

As they approached the Treehouse, they heard the red jungle fowl chickens panicking, clucking up a storm. Then they saw Ned going down in the elevator, holding a rifle as he stepped out and cautiously looked around for whatever was creating the disturbance.

The Roxtons paused and John got out his binocular and looked around the enclosure. Marguerite readied her rifle to assist Ned, although the distance was still some 200 yards to the home.

They saw Ned raise his Springfield rifle and fire at something streaking along the ground. Then, there was a blue electric flash as whatever it was hit a strand of the fence wiring as it fled the premises. Roxton followed it in his glass and said, "Tayra. It probably got in between the wires. Those are strung at intervals to burn upright animals, especially raptors and bigger theropods, but smaller animals that can jump can get between the strands. It's a wonder we don't have that problem more often."

Ned ran across the compound and they saw him fire again at the fleeing tayra, which flipped and then ran, limping, into the jungle.

The Roxtons approached the Treehouse, calling out to Malone as they came within voice range. By this time, Veronica had joined Ned, a spear in her hands in case he needed help. Veronica had still not embraced firearms, although they had enough spare arms to allow her to select from them, and to begin wearing a pistol and using a rifle as needed. It was something that she'd get to "someday", in contrast to Finn's joy in being able to own guns in lieu of her puny crossbow. Veronica was afraid of the noise and recoil, much like the primitive Zanga Indians among whom she had been raised, or the Amazons, who knew nothing of guns other than what they had seen in the company of the explorers. Roxton resolved to ask Marguerite or Finn to talk to Veronica and encourage her to take lessons from them. She might someday need this skill.

Malone waved and opened the gate as the other couple entered. He asked if they'd seen his adventure and they said they had, Roxton telling him what animal he had fired at.

"It's probably seriously wounded and it got a jolt of electricity as it went through the fence. If it lives, I doubt that it'll be back. Speaking of being back, are George and Finn home yet?"

"As of now, yes," said Veronica, pointing to the Challengers as they emerged from the jungle and struggled toward the Treehouse with their heavily laden travois.

"I'll lend them a hand," said Ned. "If the rest of you will get this meat upstairs, the elevator will be clear for us to get their loot up, too. By the way, what did you shoot?"

He expressed pleasure that they had venison rather than raptor or pork.

XXX

When Ned reached the Challengers, Finn immediately asked if he'd seen jaguar tracks near the Treehouse. "We just passed some," she noted, telling him where.

When the group gathered for tea and cookies as the pies baked and Veronica laid out potatoes and carrots that she had collected from the garden while they had been below, Challenger told the others about the man-eater. "Xma'Klee says that it has a missing toe on the left rear paw. And guess what: we saw tracks that looked just like they're from that animal."

He and Finn delighted in telling about their escape from the dinosaurs, which had nevertheless interested the scientist as that species was rarely encountered on this side of the Plateau. "I do hope that this doesn't mean they are expanding their range," he noted. "We have quite enough danger from Allosaurs and Tyrannosaurs. Moreover, why were they fighting? Neither Finn nor I saw any females that they were squabbling over."

"Well, they'd better not ask Veronica out," said Malone. "She's spoken for."

Their hostess blushed and told Ned that he was sweet, but that if any Acrocanthosaurs came calling, it was not her favors they'd want, but to eat her. "Men want my body one way, and dinosaurs, another," she quipped.

XXX

The ladies picked through the items that Finn had bartered for in the village and were pleased at the cloth and artifacts they had acquired. The men stored the meat and Ned proudly showed the fish that he and Veronica had caught that day. The other men congratulated him. Conversation then turned to the jaguar.

"I've told Finn that she may hunt it if I go, too, and John accompanies us," said Challenger. "Interested, Roxton? "

He was, and Marguerite took it better than expected. "If George and Finn go, too, I'll be less worried. But why hunt it at all? If we do nothing, the Zanga will eventually find it. They have dogs to track it and their pride as hunters and warriors will drive them to kill it, for their prestige. We needn't become involved."

Roxton and Finn then tried to explain why they wanted to join the pursuit of the big spotted cat. Marguerite scoffed, saying that their motivations were as primitive as those of their Indian friends.

"Probably much the same," Challenger agreed. "But if we get it, we do eliminate the threat and we'll have had fun and faced our fear and conquered it and will have a fine trophy in the mounted hide. But Marguerite has a point. If we kill the cat; it may miff some of the more _macho_ Zanga warriors who may resent our getting it first. I propose that we leave it alone unless it comes close again, then we take action. We are often at risk from other perils and I'm not enthused about this added threat. Still, I have told Finn that she may go if I do, and I will stand by that…if the animal is detected nearby. Otherwise, let us leave it to the Zanga."

Roxton looked disappointed and shrugged. "Mrs. Challenger?" he asked, knowing that Finn would be flattered at hearing what she hoped would someday be her name.

She flashed her urchin grin and agreed that it was probably best to do as George said, and that was settled.

XXX

That night, as each couple lay in bed, they exchanged their usual banter and some romantic compliments were uttered, to the ladies' delight. All three couples managed to make love, despite their tiredness, but Ned and Veronica are our focus in this tale, so let us eavesdrop on them.

"Oh, Ned, don't stop, please, faster, faster!" begged Veronica as Ned aroused her ardor to a new pitch. Her legs encircled his waist as he thrust deeply into her and she screamed softly with release as she climaxed.

"That was rather fun," declared Ned, playing with her hair as they breathed heavily, relaxing from their exertions of the previous hour. They had begun slow and finished fast and both were pleasantly sated and filled with tender feelings.

Ned toyed with Veronica's right nipple as they kissed, and then she asked, "Do you really want to try to get that jaguar, Ned? I'll help, if it doesn't upset our friends who are usually so hot to hunt. I would like to see you kill it instead of the mighty Lord Roxton, even if I do like John a lot. I just think you should get more of the available glory.

"After all, this is your home now, and you're the man here. Which you just proved to my complete satisfaction, pun intended. I never dreamed that having you take me in bed would be so much fun and so fulfilling. Neddy, you're really good at this, for a man who'd previously had just two Amazon girls. "

Ned stroked her shoulder and slid a foot down her shapely leg. "Veronica, I may have asked John for a few tips, but mostly, I just fantasize about what I'd like to do to you and my plans gel. I'm glad that you like the result. I think that if we keep practicing, we're going to have this sex thing down pat. And then, I am going to make you a very grateful woman, indeed! You're going to be begging me to lay you every hour, on the hour!

"As for the cat, George is probably right. It might upset certain of the Zanga if we do something they couldn't, so let's see how that develops. Unless it hangs around here… Then, we'll have to act, for our own safety. Say, did you see Finn looking at the black one mounted on the wall? She's really unhappy that she can't go after this new one. Roxton wants to say that he killed a man-eater, too. Those two like having adventures."

Veronica considered, trying not to become too aroused by what Ned's busy hands were doing to her body. She realized that she was rubbing one leg against the other as her loins became aroused again at his ministrations. "We'll find them another jaguar soon, I'm sure. But I want us to get the next one, before they know that we're looking. I know where we can find them, probably. But we need to stay out of the thickest jungle, or the _tigre_ will have us before we see it. Sometimes, a spear can be used faster than a gun. But we'll pick our ground and manage. I know a Zanga man who can put rocks in a gourd and sound like a jaguar, to call one in. In fact, Jarl can do that, and his spear can back us up. I'll get Assai to talk him into helping. I promise. Now, we need to sleep, unless you want to go for one more round of lovemaking. I think I'm up for one more time tonight, if you insist. Want me again, Neddy?"

He did and they were soon entangled once more in the throes of passion, after which Ned thought of the jaguar as he drifted off to a blissful slumber, Veronica cuddled beside him.

They'd probably have to range farther afield to get a big spotted cat, he reasoned.

But he wanted one if only to show Roxton that he could hunt on his own, or at least, with his woman. There was no real reason why he and Veronica couldn't become as skilled a hunting team as The Gun People were, and it would swell his heart with pride when he proved that. He stretched, yawned, and kissed Veronica's cheek as she slept. And then, he also slept the rest of the exhausted.

XXX

Less than a mile away, a huge jaguar lounged on a fallen tree limb, eating the remains of a peccary that he had ambushed away from its herd earlier that day. Owls hooted and he answered with a growl before snapping off a five pound chunk of meat.

He thought of his day and remembered seeing the Treehouse and hearing chickens clucking as Ned shot at the fleeing tayra. Soon, he would pay a visit to that dwelling and see if he could find a chicken dinner there. And woe betide any of the pale, upright creatures in clothing who tried to stop him!

The End


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